Charades
by Laguna's twin sister
Summary: Two people playing a game of charades... a guessing game that often leaves players confused and acting all the more. Will they end up winning? Or would they continue to be lost in this game of make pretend?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own FF12. Please don't sue me.

Warnings: Spoilers might pop up once in a while. If you hate spoilers, finish the game first.

* * *

Calm. He was deathly calm. And somehow, it disturbed the young Archadian lord considering everything that had happened in the past few hours. His escort walked steadily in front of him, and the clanking sounds his armor made a slow rhythm that almost drove him insane. Just as steady was the hum the airship made as it stood idly in the hangar. It started to ring in his ears so much that it took all of his control not to break the silence. Yet he was still a child after all, and awkward moments such as this one never really delighted him. It was during moments like this one that he often had the desire to stop and whine and act completely like his age for once.

Yet there was no room for that now. Not when a civil war might break out in Dalmasca. Not when the balance in Ivalice was upset once more, not when one of his dearest allies needed all the help she could get.

"Basch. Are you sure about this?" the young master finally blurted out, stopping the Judge Magister in his tracks. "I don't think now is the right time to leave."

The older man sighed as he turned to face his liege. Lord Larsa truly had a kind heart and that was one of the reasons why he can never leave him. His logic told him that they had to leave right away – that they would be of more help if they were away than if they were there … for if they stayed… for if he stayed… he would not have the courage to go away ever again.

"Vaan and the others… they would be there to protect her highness. I… it would be better if we were to return to Archadia as swiftly as we could and start investigating or making propositions to keep Dalmasca from harm…"

Larsa quickly noted the hesitation in Basch's voice. Surely he was not speaking what was truly in his heart. He knew, judging from his tense form and his curt words that he wanted to stay there. He needed to stay there to see that Ashe is kept safe.

"Basch!" the young lord called loudly, making the other Dalmascan soldiers in the hangar look towards their direction. That name had been spat on over and over again in those grounds and it would never regain its honor ever again. It was a name of the man that killed the king; it was the name of the man that shamed Dalmasca.

"I am Gabranth now, my lord."

"No, you are Basch. That name is merely an illusion," the young lord told him defiantly as he looked up at the masked judge. "If it is I you are worried about, then you must give me more credit. I can take care of myself."

"But Lord Larsa… I made a vow…"

"And your vow to this Kingdom must be given precedence." He shook his head as he grasped for the right words, "Your loyalty to your brother… your loyalty to me. It made you forget who you are… and made you fight with yourself."

Basch sighed heavily as he felt the ache in his chest. Ashe was going to be fine… she did not need him anymore… He made a vow to Noah… he can't possibly break that vow… never again… yet …if he were there, Ashe could have been saved; they probably wouldn't be faced with a predicament right now… Or maybe that was only his desire talking – that part of him that hoped to be by her side… to be…

"Very well then, Judge Magister Gabranth, I am giving you an order," Larsa said with stoic tone. He remembered Penelo's words once more, she told him that the princess needed Basch… she would never tell anyone but she needed Basch. "You are to protect the Queen of Dalmasca until the perpetrators have been caught and the threat to the Dalmascan throne is removed,"

"Lord Larsa!"

"I will not tolerate such insubordination," the young lord was starting to sound more like the ruler that he was; "You are to stay by her side to await further orders. Remember that you would be doing this for Dalmasca…and Archadia as well."

Soon the young man was off, leaving the lone Judge Magister in the cold platform. He did not even have the voice to question or go against his liege's wishes. His feet refused to move in an attempt to run after his charge. He merely stood quietly as the Archadian Airship departed and was soon out of his sight. It was only then that he felt as though he were brought back to life and was able to move again. He took one last glance towards the sky before he turned and walked out of the room…to do as he had been told… to be by her side once again.

"Lord Larsa… I… thank you…"

* * *

Charades

* * *

Chapter 1

Sand. It seemed like Dalmasca would never run out of it, she thought, as she trudged in the grainy ground behind another cloaked figure. She wiped away the thin line of sweat that was in her forehead as she tried to stay close behind her companion. It was warm… too warm in fact for that time of the year and she was starting to question yet again why she had agreed to wear a cloak in the middle of the heat in the first place.

"Your highness, are you all right?" Basch asked as he saw her struggling. They had been walking for over an hour and he had not heard a single complaint.

She looked up to meet his gaze and she saw a thin line of sweat in his forehead as well. "Why must you still call me that Basch?" she asked him back, finally recalling the reason for the horrendous cloaks in the first place, "I thought you said that it is imperative that no one recognizes me. I may have lost my memory, but I haven't turned completely inept."

The man stopped and smiled, "You are right. Please forgive my carelessness."

The silence continued once more except for the brief moments when a wolf cried out once hit by Basch's sword. It still made her feel sick when she saw it, yet from what she was told, she was chaining over fifty of these beasts just months ago.

Months ago. She still could not remember what had transpired back then. She remembered bits and pieces about her life these past few days. It was quite a relief considering she could barely remember her name during the first day of her "poisoning."

That was how that boy from Archadia… Larsa had explained the situation to her. A vial of some substance had been found in one of the servants' quarters and it was believed to have been the cause of her current condition. The drug was initially formulated in the Draklor laboratory, a place that vaguely rang a bell in her mind, yet the experiment had been dropped years ago – that whoever perfected it may be lurking somewhere else. The duration of its effects are unknown, and even the mere purpose of her poisoning was not known either. Yet one thing was clear. She had to get away – until she regains all of her memories, until she can reclaim her throne, until the person or persons that wanted to cause her harm are apprehended.

Somehow, her instincts told her that it was all right to believe what she had been told. Yet was it really? Can she place her trust in people who claim to know her when she barely knew herself now? They seemed to be kind, and their words seemed logical enough. Larsa was a young boy – much younger than she was. Surely such a young man could not be wicked enough to betray her, could he? And there was that other boy, Vaan; he was the first person she recognized. She knew she could trust him. And there was Penelo. She seemed to be a sweet girl and everyone was genuinely concerned about her. And there was… there was … him… Basch.

It was quite odd; in fact, it still eluded her up till then how some people called him Gabranth, while the others called him Basch. Was he perhaps carrying two names? Or could he have been a … spy? She doubted it, judging from the way he had treated her since they left the palace. He always made sure that she was safe … and somehow, she did feel that way while she was with him. He was strong and it seemed like nothing could faze him. Yet… he didn't have that warmth… the same warmth Larsa and the others have shown her. Could it be that they were disillusioned? Yet her _friends_ would not entrust her to a spy… would they? Surely, they know what they are doing… she had to trust them, she had no one else to trust… trust…

She watched as the man called Basch hurled his sword at a large wolf in front of them. Three other wolves attacked him at once and her warning was too late. Yet it didn't bother him a single bit. He looked as if he merely shrugged off and the wolves were thrown off of him. He wielded his sword and at one blow, he took down four wolves all at once. Small pools of blood appeared in the sandy ground and the echoes of the wolves' last cries droned in her ears. Slowly the crimson trail vanished, almost magically and nothing was left to see but grainy sand once again.

Basch barely heard the princess's strangled cry as he shook off the blood in his sword. That's right. She was not the Ashe that she used to be. Surely, this show of violence was new to her. He looked behind him, hoping to apologize or even give her some comfort yet when he turned around, she had already started running away from him.

"Highness!" he called yet she continued to run away.

She felt her heart beating wildly in her chest. He was strong, she would give him that, but he was ruthless… he was too powerful. He could kill her if he so willed it. Was it right to trust him? Was it right to believe in him? She felt tears in her eyes. She must run, run away from him. Suddenly, her head ached as she heard distant voices in her mind.

_Captain Basch… he was a good man… who would've known_

_Basch… he is a traitor… he ruined Dalmasca…_

_Basch … Basch…._

"Your highness!"

The cursed cloak got in her way, and before she knew it, she was tumbling down ungracefully in the sand. Stubbornly, she wiped the tears away from her eyes. That was it; she was alone in this cursed dessert… alone to fend off for herself. Basch… Basch… she cannot trust him… she cannot possibly…

"Your highness, are you hurt anywhere?"

"Stop! Stop calling me that!" she shouted angrily at him as she backed off, trying to see if she can escape, if she can get away from him.

"Your highness, please, calm down."

"Don't come any closer!" she felt the sword in her side and her shaking hands grabbed its hilt. She tried to calm her speeding heart as she gasped in air. "Who… who are you?"

Basch froze as he looked at the vulnerable queen. He didn't know what to say to make her believe that he could do anything but harm her. He didn't know what to do just for her to believe him… yet to answer her question… he didn't know how to start.

"They call you Basch… But you are someone else, are you not? Again, let me remind you… I may have lost my memory…but…"

"Highness, I do not wish to question your judgment but please… do not run away… you might hurt yourself."

"Stop it! Stop!" She placed a hand in her head then, as throbbing pain erupted once more. "If you come closer, I… I…" she pulled out her sword from its scabbard and swung it awkwardly. Everything was starting to get hazy and more voices entered her head.

"Highness!" he unthinkingly grabbed the sword from its blade and Ashe, once realizing what he had done tried to yank the blade away. Yet he continued to hold on to it as blood trickled down her sword and splattered to the ground. "It's all right… it's all right," he said softly, hoping to soothe the confused woman, "I promise not to hurt you. Please let go of the sword, you might hurt yourself."

Despite the pain in her head, she could not help but notice the blood that was starting to form in the sand. Soon it looked like a small puddle, not unlike the bloodstains the wolves left as they were slain in the sandy ground. She looked up to see a small wince the man called Basch made as he struggled to get the sword away from her grasp.

_Never again would I trust him_

She heard her own voice talking in her mind. Basch… Basch.

_Who are you to talk of trust?_

Again she heard her voice in her mind, as she saw a lone figure, a raven haired man, wielding his sword just like how Basch did.

"Vossler… Vossler…" she mumbled as she weakly let go of the sword in her hands. Soon her knees gave out and she slumped down the sandy ground.

"Your highness, please… hang on…" Basch discarded the sword and caught the fallen woman in his arms.

_I can serve her no more; you must take up my charge_

She heard Vossler's voice in her head. More images flashed in her mind, knights guarding her when she was much younger. An old man …her father was there… handing a sword to his favored knights… there were two of them… one was Vossler and the other one was…

"Your highness…"

"Basch…" she whispered as she tentatively touched his face. Why did he look so worried… and why, why did he suddenly make her feel so… safe? She didn't have time to think about it anymore for soon everything turned black.

* * *

It was already nighttime when she awoke. She realized she was lying on some sort of fabric and the ground smelled of wet leaves instead of sand. She moved her hands and sure enough, she touched soil and the ground was anything but grainy. She rose to a sitting position, only to feel a cool damp cloth slipping away from her forehead.

"Your highness, you are awake," she nearly jumped from her seat when she heard a tired yet relieved voice from behind her. Basch's face came to view and he then nodded slightly as he knelt down in front of her.

"Where are we?" She asked, hoping she did not sound too nervous after she realized that he might have been watching over her as she slept.

"In the Mosphoran Highwaste," he replied, "Are you feeling well?"

"Yes…I … I think so." She unconsciously grabbed her makeshift blanket and pulled it closer to herself, only to realize it was Basch's cloak that she was holding.

"I … I don't know what I could say to make you trust me, but I mean you no harm," he said solemnly as he bowed his head, "please forgive me if I had upset you in any way."

She faintly remembered what had happened yet before she woke up; she could say she knew some things she didn't know before.

"Vossler was tasked to protect me and you were given that task as well. My father… he trusted you, did he not?"

Basch nodded thoughtfully. It had been like that. Yet there was also that fact that _Basch_ was believed to be the same person that killed her father. "Aye, your highness, I vowed to protect you."

Ashe nodded as she felt an unusual calm in her heart. However, something was still unclear. "Yet why do they call you Gabranth?"

He was somehow relieved that she did not remember her father's murderer, yet at the same time, he felt a sick feeling at the pit of his stomach just thinking about how she'd react if she knew, "It is a long story… but suffice to say, Gabranth was the name used by my twin brother."

"Was?"

"He died in battle in the Sky Fortress Bahamut."

"I'm sorry," she said as she cast her eyes down with guilt. Somehow, she knew she had somehow caused his death. She felt it in her heart.

"You do not have to be," he shifted a bit and looked away from her, "I had to take his place as Lord Larsa's protector once he was gone, which is the reason why I am called by his name."

His explanation did not make sense to her yet somehow she felt that it would do her no harm to believe it. The way Basch's eyes looked… it seemed that he still mourned his brother's death. Maybe she shouldn't doubt him any longer. In the soft light of the moon, the vicious warrior she saw that morning faded into a man that seemed to be so gentle… someone … that was plausible enough to be her champion.

"You carried me… from Nalbina to here?" she asked, trying to change the bitter topic.

He nodded timidly and she felt a pang of guilt in her chest. "I'm sorry for being such a bother…"

"Nay, you were anything but that," he retorted softly, trying to put her at ease, "it was nothing."

An awkward silence lasted between them for a while until Basch stood up, telling her that he would get her something to eat. Yet as he rose, she took hold of his hands, forcing him to stay.

"Basch, I am truly sorry for today and…" she looked up to see him wincing slightly, and to her horror, she saw some bloodstained cloths wrapped around his hands. She abruptly let go and Basch, seeing her stricken face knelt down beside her once more.

"Please do not be bothered by this… it is nothing…."

"Sit down."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I said sit down, now, beside me," her authoritative self was back once more and Basch could not help but comply. Yet in total contrast to her regal order was the tenderness he felt as she held his hand.

She remembered it faintly yet she knew she had caused this. Trouble. She caused the poor man nothing but trouble. She saw a canister of water nearby and she quickly cleaned his wounds with it. The dried up blood and some dirt had caked in his wounded hand and as she removed it, she heard Basch's sharp intake of breath between his teeth.

Basch wanted to stop her yet judging by the seriousness in her eyes and her pursed lips, he chose to keep quiet and let her have her way.

Soon she tied a neat ribbon around his injured hand and let him clench and unclench his fists. "Your highness, thank you for…"

"Basch, how many times must I tell you?"

"…"

"I may have lost my memory but, I have not gone daft," Ashe chuckled lightly, "that is I promise not to go around running and acting too impulsively again."

"Thank you, your highne…"

"And stop calling me that already."

"A…as you wish,"

* * *

Author's notes:

Honestly, this is the fic I hesitated most on. I originally did not want to post this because FF12 section is full of good writers and everyone seems to speak A+-level English or something and the plots and overall flow of the stories were told exquisitely and basically I chickened out. Haha. Then there is also that age-factor Basch and Ashe have (I mean, for me, their pairing is perfect…but the age difference is a bit unsettling…) So yeah… but then I thought hey, a negative x a negative a positive right? (yeah, that's like the most math I can do. Haha) so I thought that maybe, just maybe, I should give it a shot. I don't mind getting flamed for this, but well, writing this fic is my only buoy in this wild torrent of schoolwork (see, my English/poetic-ness is improving already!) so I decided to share this to all those who could possibly be interested. Thanks in advance to all those who'd review and those who would look forward to the next chapters. Thank you so much! I promise to make the author's notes super short next time. Haha.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Ashe watched her escort as he stood nearby, patting a big yellow bird on its head. He seemed to be feeding it with some leaves and the creature seemed as happy as it could be. She tried to get closer yet the bird noticed her and got intimidated somehow. It was only when Basch gave it another round of whatever he was feeding it, that the bird calmed down once more.

"Good Morning Highness," he greeted as he patted the huge bird on the head, "I am glad that you found me, I was going to bring this fellow to our campsite."

"A… Choco…uh…"

"A chocobo," he finished for her, "I saw it wandering around a while ago."

"Oh I see," Ashe said as she tentatively patted the yellow creature. The chocobo made a small "kweh" and she suddenly felt like grinning.

Basch noticed her amusement with the bird and quickly gave her some of the gyshal greens. "I think it likes you," he said, earning a quick smile from Ashe. Suddenly, she seemed absorbed in her own thoughts as she continued to stroke its thick yellow feathers.

"When I was a child… My eldest brother gave me a chocobo…"she said reluctantly, as if in a trance, "Its name was … Sunshine?"

"You often took her to Giza…where it played with the cockatrices?" Basch suggested, suddenly remembering it for himself.

"Giza… you're… you're right!" Ashe exclaimed, "How did you know?"

Basch chuckled then, as his liege suddenly looked like that young adolescent once more. She was often full of joy and her brothers adored her. She would have the weirdest requests and would play games with her beloved pet. And he would always be there to accommodate her whims as much as he could. With him being younger than all the other knights, he was often tasked to guard her whenever he was in Dalmasca and not sent to missions somewhere else. To say that they had been playmates couldn't have been that far from the truth.

"Let's just say… this chocobo told me,"

Hearing those words from him seemed quite odd yet she grinned nonetheless. Although she barely remembered him, she somehow knew that it was something she'd never hear him say. "What happened to Sunshine anyway? I cannot seem to remember anything beyond what you said…"

Basch was quiet for a while as he smiled bitterly. He was suddenly back in his own shoes again several years ago, when he was told of the news that it was accidentally freed and dispatched by one of the soldiers during a surprise attack. The chocobo was never seen alive again … and he knew it was something a little girl who just lost two of her brothers with the other four missing, could not accept easily.

"She's probably there… somewhere… having a brood of her own…" He told her the same story he said years ago and the comfortable lie suited both of them once again. He knew, as Ashe nodded pensively with a bittersweet smile in her face.

She patted the yellow chocobo then and laid her cheek on its soft feathers, "At least… she had earned her freedom."

Basch nodded as he got the bags that were on the floor, "Well, if you are ready, get on. I am sure this fellow wouldn't mind giving you a ride."

She was done freshening up, and she truly was ready to depart, yet at Basch's words, something didn't feel quite right...

She rode the chocobo as she had been instructed yet when Basch started to walk off with the chocobo following in tow, she suddenly felt like calling out to him. She rode (as he walked) in silence for a while until she saw several monsters in a junction ahead.

"Basch, isn't it that if you ride a chocobo, the fiends would not bother running after you?" she asked as she watched him dodge one of the fiends that suddenly attacked.

"You…are… right,"

"Then what are you walking there for?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"I think this chocobo's legs are strong enough," she patted its head once more, "I think it wouldn't mind having another passenger."

Basch sheathed his sword and looked up confusedly, "I could not possibly…" yet the glare she gave him made him withdraw whatever objection he had. He sighed and sat on the chocobo, just behind her as he was told.

"Isn't that much better?" Ashe said knowingly as she fed the bird yet another peck of gyshal greens.

"Yes, your highness."

"I thought I told you not to…"

"I… please forgive my laxity."

Basch sat up stiffly behind her and she was seated with her back straight as well, yet when the chocobo increased its pace to successfully go up a hill, Ashe was forced to lean back on him. The two kept quiet for the remainder of their journey until she finally decided to speak.

"During that time…when we went around Ivalice to get the dusk shard… and the sword of kings… and ultimately bringing an end to the war… we were together weren't we?"

"Aye"

"And when my father was still alive, you and Vossler were there to protect me and stay by my side…"

"Yes your maje… Ashe,"

"Then why?"

"Why?" Basch repeated the question, not fully knowing what was being asked in the first place.

"Why do you seem so uncomfortable with me Basch?"

"I…" he really did not know how to answer such a question. He truly had spent most of his life serving Dalmasca and being a loyal knight yet now that he was asked, "I do not think I am uncomfortable. I certainly do not feel that way… but, forgive me if I made you feel as such…"

She sighed as she realized that he was doing it once more, "Vaan and Penelo seem to act truly like… my friends. However you Basch seem to be a bit different…"

"Different?"

"You seem to be more withdrawn. In fact, you are anything but _lax._ It is as if you are more reticent."

He really did not know how to react to that. In fact it never occurred to him that the queen could ever feel that way. After all, it was not too long ago that she despised him to the core. He couldn't forget the anger and the hatred he felt emanating from her the moment she saw he was still living. And yet even after all that happened… the closeness they had… as her knight and as his liege, was never completely rekindled although he felt that it was fine. It was fine as long as she was safe, as long as he could continue to watch her from afar. What right did he have, a disgraced man, to be with the likes of her, to be by her side, anyway?

"I…"

"It is a silly question, forgive me, just…"

"But I am here if you need me. I would always be here to serve you,"

"Out of duty?"

"Out of loyalty…" and something else… He shook his heads as he pushed away the silly illusions in his head.

She was quiet for a while and Basch didn't know if he had offended her or displeased her. He was about to apologize when suddenly she laughed, a rich and comforting laugh, that somehow warmed his heart.

"I guess you truly are the honest to goodness stick-in-the-mud Penelo said you were."

"S…stick-in-the mud!" the man stuttered, astonished, but unable to keep himself from smiling as well.

"That is what she said," she tried to catch her breath, "Now it is up to you to live up to your reputation."

"I…shall take note of that," he mumbled, suddenly earning an uncharacteristic grunt from the princess.

Soon she started to see the sun's rays lightening up the path and the trees became more abundant. The chocobo slowed down and finally stopped altogether and refused to push forward. It was a sign that they reached the end of the highwaste and it was time to dismount. Ashe gave the bird one last pat on the head and shortly afterwards, it happily ran off.

Basch was busy securing his duffel bag behind his back when he heard swishing sounds nearby. He looked up to see the princess wielding her sword awkwardly, as if she were testing it. He hesitated, seeing the focused look in her face, yet when the sword suddenly flew out of her hands he took his chance and intercepted her before she could reclaim it.

"Your Highness, I don't think it's proper for you to be handling a sword right now…"

She looked at him sharply, hoping to reprimand him for calling her inappropriately once more yet she merely sighed and sat on a nearby tree stump. "I must admit that it is one of the things I have forgotten, but if Vaan and Penelo were telling me the truth, that I was quite skilled in swordsmanship before I got… sick, I suppose it would gradually come back to me if I start using it."

He walked closer to her and offered the sword back from its hilt and she timidly took it back. "Although I know that you are very eager to regain your memory, I think it would be best if … well… if you just left the fighting to me." He regretted the words once he uttered it, knowing fully well that his liege would take offense. He knew she was one who would not let herself seem too vulnerable. She would rather get wounded and bleed to death than to be told to rely on someone else.

She looked at her hands and saw the calluses that were there as proof of her forgotten skills, yet as she thought back and remembered her helplessness and the trouble she had caused her escort thus far, she realized that it would be futile to resist. "I suppose you are right, Basch," she said sadly, unaware of the surprise her words caused the knight. "Very well then, I leave my safety up to your capable hands."

"I thank you, your highness,"

There he goes again, she thought, as she looked at his form, almost ready to salute at one command. She knew about her helplessness yet somehow, a comparable change of image seemed appealing in her mind. "Basch, couldn't you at least say it as if you were protecting …say a common village girl?" Ashe stood up from her seat and started walking idly in the mossy ground. "I am seriously considering … or rather re-considering your mental health Basch Fon Ronsenberg."

He had the sudden urge to scratch his head as he got completely lost in what the princess was telling him.

"I was told that I lost my memory… but it is you who keeps on forgetting Basch!"

"Oh… please forgive my inattentiveness… I am sorry for repeatedly …"

"You're doing it again Basch," she said flatly and he seriously thought that she was really angry at that point. She looked up slightly, as if in thought, and suddenly she spoke up once more, "You said you are comfortable with me, correct?"

He nodded.

"And you said that you would always be there for me, correct?"

He nodded once more.

"And I suppose… you have been there for me since a long time ago, correct?"

"Aye, all you have said is correct."

"Well then, I am more than just your liege, am I not?"

Basch suddenly felt his heart thumping erratically in his chest as her words echoed in his mind. More than just his liege… of course she was more than that! He had vowed to serve her, to protect her, to be there for her… to give her more than…

"Maybe you could see me as your friend," Ashe was suddenly right in front of him that he instinctively leaned back. "Basch, could I not have been a royal, and could you not have been a knight… and we've been together like we had. I suppose we could have been just that."

"I am very honored… and I … personally think you to be more than just … my liege."

"Then what if," she had that that twinkle in her eyes once more – the same twinkle he used to see as he took her to Giza plains, as he told her stories during long journeys, as he taught her how to use the sword, "What if, I just pretend to be someone else… and you pretend as well."

"I… I beg your pardon?"

"Charades, Basch, charades." She walked away from him and sat on the tree stump once more. Vaan and Penelo kept on trying to make her remember her greatness… her strength as a leader, as a fighter, as a monarch. Yet now that she seemed so weak… "I do not remember most things about my past anyway… and no one is supposed to know who we are."

That had been Larsa's plan. It was his duty to take her away from Rabanastre, keep her safe until she regained her memory. He did not know what the young Archadian lord and their other friends have done and what part they are currently playing on this plan.

"What do you think Basch?"

He looked at her bright hopeful eyes and could not help but smile. The princess had always liked scheming and planning and getting her way… "That is a sound plan, highness."

"Ashe" she said, impulsively correcting him, and then she suddenly frowned when she realized something, "oh that's right. I would need a new name."

"What about Amalia," he suggested, noting how quickly her face brightened up once more.

"Amalia… it's a familiar name… I've heard it before."

"You have used it as your alias for a while"

"Oh I see." She somehow felt as if there was more behind that name that she had forgotten. Somehow…. Somehow there is a meaning behind it that she could not quite recall… "Amalia it is then," she finally said, pushing her thoughts temporarily away. "What about you Basch? What would you want your name to be?"

"Me?" Names. He now had too many of them. Could another name make him live another life… just like what his brother had done? "I … could not seem to think of a name."

Gabranth. That was his brother's name wasn't it? She vaguely remembered that it was the same name he was called in the palace. If he had been living his brother's life before they left… before all of this had happened… then that must mean…

"Basch… Basch is fine I suppose."

He smiled then, as he heard her say his given name once more, his disgraced name that had been cursed and spat on enough to make it something taboo. Ashe herself refused to call him by name for a while yet now that she said it, over and over, now that they conversed casually as if nothing was done to soil his forsaken name; he suddenly had a warm feeling in his heart.

"So then, as of now I am Amalia," she said as she started walking once more. "I am Amalia, a simple girl from Rabanastre."

Seeing her walking leisurely in the mossy ground, he realized that she was probably absorbed in her thoughts. He picked up his pace to be by her side.

Ashe smiled as she saw him beside her, unlike before when she saw nothing but his back or merely heard his faint footsteps behind her. Maybe as Amalia, he would have fewer reasons to stay as awkward as he was, "I guess I would have to figure out my identity. Let's see… I grew up in a…"

"Palace?"

"Oh Basch, have you no imagination at all?" she mumbled as gave him a pointy glare, "Amalia, think of Amalia." Ashe saw his lopsided grin and realized he had been teasing her.

"Maybe Amalia lived in the palace as her highness had,"

"Oh, all right," she sighed at her companion's apparent lack in creativity, "what would I be doing in the palace?"

"Maybe your mother was one of the governesses that facilitated the education of the royal children," he chuckled, seeming almost proud of himself, "that was a mouthful."

"I think you outdid yourself this time Basch. I think we are making progress."

They spent most of the time conversing as they passed through the Salikawood. By the third junction, the timid knight started talking in more than three sentences at once.

"So what did the palace guards do?" Ashe asked attentively, obviously hooked on Basch's story about a (mis)adventure he had as a young squire in Dalmasca.

It took him a while to reply, as he took down two Marlboro overkings before he spoke, "Well, the guards did not really bother trying to apprehend me, the supposed trespasser," he blushed slightly, remembering the embarrassing incident, "They were actually busy looking for a mischievous little princess at that time."

"You don't say!" Ashe gasped, as the knight's suppressed smile betrayed the seriousness in his voice. "Whoever that _little princess_ was, I am sure of her innocence."

"Well… the little one took a game of hide and seek too far. All of the maids and guards around the palace were so worried that they did not know where she ran off to," Basch saw the image in his head then, that clumsy-looking little girl Ashe used to be, with dirt in her cheeks and her gown slightly torn and filthy. He supposed he was no different at that time, with his awkward build – tall yet thin for his age.

"Then what happened?"

"Of course, I was busy trying to escape the wrath of that maid I somehow… offended… and I accidentally fell on a small burrow in the palace gardens," he then cast her a sideward glance, "that's where I saw the imp for a princess."

"An i…imp for a princess?" she sputtered incredulously, a bit indignant yet overjoyed at the same time for having such a conversation with the stiff Basch Fon Rosenburg.

He grinned slightly until he finally regained his composure, "I'm sorry, I got carried away,"

"I would not forgive you if you do not finish your story," she threatened lightheartedly, hoping to bring him back on the mood.

"Oh, there's nothing much left to it," he said, looking up slightly, hoping to get her to leave the topic at hand.

"Did you get caught?" she asked him insistently, quickly noting the faint blush in the pale man's cheeks.

"Suffice to say… I later on found out… that the lady was actually one of the princess's maids."

Ashe laughed heartily then, almost waking the sleeping monsters nearby, "poor you, I suppose you were subjected to some form of torture after that."

"Well… I couldn't walk freely for a while, for anywhere I went, people were whispering about. Some have even confronted me."

"I couldn't blame them," she said in between laughs, "after you barged into her room like that while she was changing!"

"I was young and naïve…" he sighed, smiling bashfully, "and out of place in such a huge palace. After that incident, I made sure that I never get lost again."

"Oh… so that's why we managed to get by, without you looking at your map even once," she said when she finally calmed down and suppressed the tail of her laughter.

"Speaking of which, we have reached the end of the Salikawood," Basch said as he led her through a narrow rusty gate.

Sure enough, she felt sand in her boots once more and she was slightly disappointed, after she had been used to walking on solid ground. Yet as she looked around, she noticed the birds flying gaily in the air and the sea side not so far away. It looked like… it looked like paradise.

"We're now in the Phon Coast," he breathed in deeply and enjoyed the cool breeze. Truly it was a fine day for traveling. And somehow, deep in his heart, he wished that their journey was still far from its end.

What he didn't know was that his companion felt exactly the same way. Ashe was still mesmerized by the scenery that she stayed on the spot where she stood as she looked around her. Ivalice truly was a wondrous place and for her to have forgotten it was such a shame. She was glad to have the opportunity to relive it once more… with Basch at her side. Speaking of which… she looked around and realized she was alone…

"Amalia!" she heard his deep voice, calling loudly. "Amalia!" she looked down and saw him several feet away from her. Warm, inviting hands extended towards her direction. "Amalia? Are you ready to go?"

She nodded as she smiled brightly, picking up her pace to be by her companion's side once more.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The trip started to become more of a leisure walk than a hasty escape and Ashe couldn't be happier. Seeing the clear blue waters quickly made her think about frolicking and swimming around, as children and their families _normally_ did, she supposed.

"How did it go again?" she asked herself as she pictured it in her head. The children would run to the waters, splashing and screaming with glee as their gowns got soaked and their trousers probably ruined beyond repair. Their parents would stand and watch … yet what would they be doing? They would probably be seated as the maids served them tea. Tea? She shook her head at the thought. Of course there won't be maids and teas by the sea and children would not be wearing such formal clothes! She tried to envision the scene once more in her head. She thought hard about it and wondered if her imagination simply was not as active as she had thought it to be. Yet could her lost memories be at fault? She wondered; did she ever have a trip by the sea when she was younger?

She looked at the waters and heard it calling to her and suddenly she wondered how it felt like to be in that sea. Would it be cold despite the bright sunlight? Would she really float on that water? Her instincts told her that she knew the answers to her questions yet she simply cannot remember that scene in her mind… that scene where the feeling or the memory actually took place, if it truly took place. It must have been fun…

Basch glanced at his charge after he brought down another pack of silver lobos and noticed her smile. He didn't know if he should take her oblivion as a good sign or be disturbed by it, but nevertheless, it didn't take him long to decide that it was probably a good thing. After all, he could not have her offended or irked by the amount of bloodshed he had caused for the past few minutes like that time when they were in the Estersands. Yet now that he thought about it, he may have been close to chaining forty silver lobos now. He found that quite odd, considering that the number of encounters they had, the last time they were in Phon Coast, was not as numerous as what he encountered today. He guessed that he may have been tired already and his sore arms were starting to become a proof of that.

She was jarred from her reverie once she bumped into her companion's back. "What's wrong Basch?" she suddenly asked concernedly when she noticed the frown in his face, "Are you all right?"

"I am fine, thank you," he said as he sheathed his sword. He looked around and realized that the coast was clear. "We are near the Hunter's Camp. I suppose we could stay there for a while."

"I'm starting to like this place," Ashe smiled as she glanced at the clear waters, "Could we really stay here? Would that be all right?"

Basch looked at her hopeful eyes and felt a certain kind of serenity in his heart. It was one of those rare moments that Ashe seemed to act her age. The wars and the tribulations in her life almost turned her to steel. Yet now that she looked so young and unscarred, the worries he had inside were somehow lessened.

"The Hunter's Camp is located in between Archades and Rabanastre which makes it neither too near nor too far from both capitals. I suppose it is probably one of the most neutral places in Ivalice."

"That's wonderful," she looked down and had a contented look in her face, "I do not know why, but somehow, this place calms me. Somehow I feel as though in this place… I could be… free"

"Free?" he asked, giving his full attention to his liege.

Ashe instinctively clasped her hands and touched the metallic band in her finger. "I could only guess that this place is far from the world I've known and forgotten. Somehow… a part of me had always been restricted in that world…. Suffocated by the norms and roles I have to take…. The past. Me and… someone…?" she stopped as blurred images appeared in her head. She suddenly felt her heart thumping madly in her chest and each beat it made caused a certain tinge of pain. "Face the present … move on from the past?" her knees buckled and she felt herself falling – only to be caught by a pair of strong arms that quickly brought her back to her feet.

Somehow, something did not feel quite right. It had been a familiar scene – something which she thought may have been part of her lost memories. It was a moment where she tripped and was saved by someone…

"Amalia?" the knight's deep voice brought her back to her senses. Amalia. That's right, she was Amalia now.

"Oh Basch, I'm sorry. Have I always been this clumsy?" she shook her head as she withdrew her hands from her tight grasp on his arms and placed them back on her sides. "First an impish child… then a clumsy queen?"

"But you've always been a strong woman," he said, as he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Don't push yourself too hard. You would remember soon."

"You're right, you're right," she nodded, "I am Amalia now after all. I can't let Ashe's past weigh me down."

"Let us go then."

Basch walked slightly in front of her, cautiously keeping an eye on the road ahead. He tried to concentrate on looking for silver lobos that may potentially come their way while avoiding the winged or slow monsters, yet his mind continually drifted back to what the princess said. Freedom, she longed for it like he had. Yet what price did she have to pay to feel this freedom? Would the gaping hole in her heart – that hollow spot where her memories had been be worth it? Or would the absence of the weight of responsibility and duty in her shoulders be worth the disruption of her sense of balance?

Was it right to tell her not to exert too much effort to remember so she could begin anew? Or must he guide her to hasten her recovery, so she can be whole once more? Now that he knew that she was not as pleased as she seemed to be in her position as his liege, somehow, the two options have both turned into predicaments. To make her forget would mean shielding her from the pain and the tragedies he had initially failed to shield her from. Yet it would be unfair to leave her hollow for the rest of her life. To make her remember would mean making her strong enough to return to the life she knew, a life he knew now was not as pleasing as he had thought it to be.

"All I want is your happiness…" he unconsciously said his thoughts out loud and Ashe almost missed it.

"My happiness?"

It was only then that he became fully aware of his slip and he suddenly felt as though he got cornered. "You seem to have been gloomy since … well, since you have lost your memory, which was understandable. I am glad that today you seem to be in high spirits," he said, almost in a babbling manner, thankful that Ashe was behind him for she wouldn't be able to see his reluctance.

"I am thankful for your concern Basch," she replied as she looked up to see nothing but the knight's stiff stance. He replied with a curt nod and she supposed he was back to his timid self once more. She smiled nonetheless, when she realized that such an honest slip may not occur again.

She started thinking about striking a conversation with the timid knight yet before she could even utter a word; she heard sounds of activity suddenly erupting from nearby. Soon Ashe's eyes widened when she saw the Hunter's Camp Basch mentioned earlier. She did not see the whole camp at first as a big boulder blocked her view. But soon she saw the small huts and the different races hustling and busting about.

"The road downhill is slightly steep. The sands in this area are kind of shaky as well," the knight said as he offered her his hand, "I made a mistake… we should have entered from the other side of the camp"

"It's all right," she replied as she held on to his hand, "you would catch me if I fall, wouldn't you?"

He chuckled, "Of course"

Soon they made it downhill and Basch realized that he held her hand longer than he should have. He quickly yet awkwardly let go. Ashe didn't seem to mind yet he muttered an apology nonetheless.

The subtle exchange piqued the curiosity of a passerby and his nosiness simply could not be withheld, "Say… you two look familiar, kupo."

Ashe suddenly heard a small voice from behind her. She looked back and saw a moogle eyeing the two of them. "Us? Well… you must be mistaken," Ashe started nervously, "It's the first time we've been here."

"Oh is that so?" the moogle placed his tiny hand under his chin as if to think, "Well… are you on vacation or are you staying here for a while?"

"Well, we are thinking about staying…" she said as she looked tentatively at Basch, "maybe for a month or two."

"Splendid!" the small moogle jumped merrily. "Many hunters have moved away after earning some gil or getting tired of the lifestyle here. After all, with the war over, many cities have started rebuilding. Everyone's just been passing through. It's been a bit lonely if you'd ask me. … But it's great that folks like you are staying here, kupo!"

"Oh, that is very kind of you," she said as she bent down to shake the moogle's hand.

"Excuse me, kind…. moogle, could you tell me where Blanche is? I was told that he was the one I could talk to, should I be in the Phon Coast."

"Blanche you say? Why? Who told you that information?"

Basch hesitated, not knowing if he should disclose the information or not. But seeing how harmless the moogle seemed to be, "From Montblanc. He is an acquaintance of ours."

"No wonder, no wonder," the moogle sighed, "my cousin refuses to call me by my new name, it's Mighty… MIGHTY. Blanche seemed too feminine for my taste, kupo."

"Oh, so you are Blanche… I meant, Mighty!" Ashe said happily. "I am Amalia, and this is Basch."

"Nice to meet the two of you," the moogle exclaimed as it jumped once more, "So, I suppose you need help in settling down here for a while."

Basch nodded, "I do not know the requisites for taking temporary residence here, however, if you could kindly enlighten us…"

"First of all, you seem too uptight mister," Mighty said, earning a small laugh from Ashe. "Loosen up a bit will you?"

"Oh, forgive me, I… nevermind."

"I was teasing you, I was teasing you," the moogle replied lightheartedly, "Second, you have to talk to the Huntmaster. Only certified hunters and some merchants can live here. Some Clan Centurio members may also be given the privilege…"

"I see," Basch scoped the area and sure enough, he saw the Bangaa brothers nearby. "I suppose we should go talk to them now."

"Okay, I'll show you the way,"

Ashe looked around and saw more people as they reached the center of the Hunter's Camp. Bangaas and Seeqs were training everywhere and displays of weapons of different shapes and sizes were scattered about. She was surprised when Basch suddenly stopped in front of her, and she realized that they probably were in the so-called Huntmaster's house.

"Hey Atak! Is Huntmaster there?"

"It depends on who's asking," the bangaa snorted.

"Here's Amalia and Basch, and they're interested in becoming hunters," the moogle explained.

"Ha, those two? I'm sorry. Hunter's league had been very busy lately. Something to do with that elite mark in the outskirts of camp found recently," Atak shook his head, "I'm not saying the hunters are a bunch of weaklings… just that, that mark is really a tough one. Why, even Amon left early this morning and he hasn't returned."

"What? You mean, Amon actually left the camp and hunted down the mark?" Mighty gasped and his small wings started flapping, "It was that bad?"

"Excuse me," Basch coughed slightly to get some attention, "Would it be possible for us to talk to the Huntmaster?"

"Not if you're here to help bring down that elite mark," the bangaa eyed Basch from head to toe just as Mighty had done earlier. Bangaas were known to have a poor sense of sight and Atak wasn't an exception. However, he was lucky to still have his eyes functioning well enough to recognize things like clothing and weapons. Judging from what the man in front of him was currently wearing, he seemed to be a scruffy Archadian ardent. With this conclusion, he drawled, "But nah, don't get too offended, but you don't seem like a very strong guy."

"I think you're very wrong…" Ashe started as she pushed Basch aside, "He can defeat more than all the monsters you ran away from in your lifetime."

"Hey lady!" Atak made a move forward and Basch instinctively pulled Ashe back behind him.

"I am sorry. She did not mean to offend you …"

"I just did!"

"Amalia," he said softly yet somehow sternly, then turned to the bangaa in front of him. "All I have to do is prove myself, is that correct?"

"Hey Blok! Stok! C'mere. This guy thinks he can bring down the Plague," The two brothers stopped talking to each other when they heard Atak's words. After which, they looked at each other and shrugged.

"Okay, let's make this more exciting. If you manage to bring down the mark, I'll personally endorse you to the huntmaster."

"All right, and what if I fail?"

"Well, added to the fact that you're probably dead by then, I get to keep something that you would give me now as a pawn."

"Pawn? Do you mean something of value? Like a piece of jewelry perhaps?" Ashe asked as she got the necklace around her neck, "You can keep this if you want. I can give you my ring as well."

Basch stiffened, visibly shocked, and was thankfully back to his senses before Ashe could give the ring to the bangaa. "No, you could not give that away."

Ashe stopped as she looked up to see the serious look in Basch's face, "It's all right Basch, it's just jewelry anyway… and besides, we surely would not lose the bet."

Basch shook his head and glanced at the bangaa. "We could not risk losing that ring. You may not remember it now, but you used to treasure it more than anything."

Ashe nodded silently and replaced the choker around her neck. She treasured the ring? She looked at the band in her finger as it glistened after being hit by the sunlight. Yes, it was beautiful but… was there something more behind it?

"Here, I give you my sword," Basch said solemnly as he unsheathed his Excalibur and offered the hilt to Atak.

"But what is a knight without a sword?" Ashe held on to his arm and looked at him, her eyes almost pleading.

"It's all right. I will just procure a new one. Surely they sell many swords here in camp."

"Well, this sword sure looks valuable, but I have never seen something like it. Was it forged in Nabradia? Or was it forged in Archadia?"

"It does not matter where," Basch said as he offered his hand for a hand shake. "I do hope that you honor our agreement. And hopefully, take good care of my sword in my absence. It had served me well."

"Tsk, whatever," Atak mumbled. "You better be on your way. Since I am feeling generous, here's a map of where the Plague was said to have been found. If you aren't back by noon tomorrow, we would all presume that you have died." The bangaa started making huge arm movements to emphasize his point, "the plague was called as such because it was the reason for the sudden spawning of silver lobos here in the coast. So I'm telling 'ya now. It's not just the Plague that you'd be fighting, but lots of its minions as well."

Basch nodded and he turned around and walked away. Ashe followed in tow and a very confused moogle followed as well.

"Hey Basch, are you sure about fighting that mark? If Amon went and hasn't returned, I suppose it was really difficult to fight such a thing," Mighty said and to his dismay, Basch merely continued walking, "Oh, and just so you know, Amon is just the legendary number one hunter in all of Ivalice… well… maybe next to that ragtag team from Clan Centurio that managed to get to the Order of Ambrosia."

Basch tried hard to keep a poker face, "Well, I suppose I should really be careful then." He suddenly stopped on his tracks when he heard a woman from one of the stalls calling them.

"Here, here, I'll give you a good deal on this one," the woman said once the couple ended up in her stall. "Here's Save the Queen. I had it specially imported from Balfonheim. I'll give it to you just for 10,000 gil and you can even return it once you get your sword back. Unless it breaks that is."

"That is very generous of you," Basch said as he got the sword the woman offered him. He gingerly touched the blade and saw its luster. "May I?"

"Yes of course"

Basch moved several meters away from the stall and tested the sword.

"You're lucky that your beau is quite a sentimental fellow," the woman told Ashe as she looked at the knight dreamily.

"I'm sorry? I don't understand ..."

"I saw it earlier, that deal he had with that sneaky Atak. Could that have been my late husband, he would've offered our wedding rings straight away," she moved closer to Ashe and glanced at the ring in her finger, "why, that sword was worth way more than this ring as I had thought!"

"Do you mean to say…?" before Ashe could ask more, Basch was back in her side and was offering the money to the woman.

"It was well made. Thank you again for your help," he said politely as he placed the sword in his back.

"No problem," she replied, "I guess I'll be seeing the two of you around. Be careful out there, you hear?"

Ashe and Basch nodded and soon they were off.

"I'm sorry I can't go out with the two of you. You see, I may be Mighty but… well… let's face it. I'm tiny!" the moogle pouted slightly.

"It's all right Mighty. We'll be back as soon as we could." Ashe said as she bent down to pat his head. "Thanks for your help."

As they walked in the sandy coast, Ashe caressed the ring in her finger once more. Tentatively, she moved the ring in her finger in an effort to remove it, only to realize it was tight around her fingers, as if she had worn it for ages. Was this ring so important that Basch had to give his sword away? Where could she have gotten it? Why was it so important to her? Why can't she remember? Why?

"_I'll take that as payment…"_

"_Isn't there anything else?"_

"_I'll give it back when I find something more valuable…"_

She heard the familiar voices in her head. She trudged in the sand as she touched her aching head. He had brown hair…. And he was the same person that broke her fall. He told her… he told her…

"Amalia?" Basch just defeated a small pack of silver lobos when he heard a soft blast nearby. He quickly turned around and noticed how pale Ashe had become.

"Libra," he muttered as he dropped his sword in panic and steadied her shoulders. "Where? Where does it hurt?" He shouldn't have been too careless, he thought as he mentally battered himself. It was his fault – he should've focused more. He shouldn't have let Ashe's current condition… the way she had forgotten the man she loved most… distract him. And now… so now…

"He told me… he told me to move on from the past and face the present…Stop running away… I must not… I must not give my heart to the stone…?" she mumbled the words, as if in a trance, and Basch had to pull her closer to him to support her as she had visibly weakened. He knew something was wrong as he felt her quickly slipping away. Her mumbling started to become incoherent and her slow breathing was an indication that she was slowly losing consciousness.

"We must go back to the Hunter's Camp," he said as he placed his arms under her knees to carry her.

"But he took my ring… he took it… as payment," she whispered, as her head lay in the nook of his neck.

"Who did?" he asked, not really expecting an answer as he was intent on looking around to survey his surroundings. Much to his dismay, another pack of wolves had spawned and their numbers were close to fifty. He surely could not fight and protect Ashe at the same time at that rate. He said a quick prayer in his head, hoping a miracle would come their way.

Yet an elite mark appeared instead.

* * *

Author's notes: Again thank you 100x to all those who reviewed. I'm sorry it took me forever to update. said. Well, anyway, thank you for all the comments and suggestions you have given, I've been working hard on it, but quite frankly, I still think it needs a lot of work. Good news – I finally thought of the backbone of the story. I'll see you soon, hopefully. Bye bye!


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

Chapter 4

He felt virtually stranded as he looked at the sheer number of lobos surrounding them. The canine beasts drooled as if they were hungry for blood. Lobos, he knew, were usually not this cocky and when he saw a larger being walking towards their direction he suddenly found out why. The Plague, the greater beast that brought them forth, gave them the initiative.

He had a sick feeling at the pit of his stomach when he realized that Ashe was still unmoving in his arms, and even up to that moment, he was not sure of what exactly hit her. Cursing his luck, he moved backwards, toying with the idea of running away yet fully aware that his chances of escape were very slim. He moved back some more and suddenly felt the sword he had dropped by his feet. He slowly bent down to get it when a hand reached out and held on to his sleeve.

"What are you doing here, with a woman to boot?" the man said in between breaths. Basch glanced behind him and saw an injured man struggling to get back to his feet. His platinum colored hair just about covered his eyes and his chin still had particles of sand stuck in it. "Didn't you know that the Plague had been running around in this area? Tough fiend to beat… I've done all that I could but it's still moving."

Basch looked in front of him and once again saw the mark they called Plague. It looked like a mutated wolf with eyes made of fire and teeth made of spears. It walked… no… swaggered, slightly wounded but still feeling strong. Its pelt had stains of blood in it, as it lost its silver luster. Yet the blood in its claws and in its teeth showed not weakness, but ferocity far from what the puny silver lobos were capable of.

"I have weakened it a bit, but with my condition now, I am starting to doubt myself. Go, I will attack it once more. Wait for my signal and I will make a way for you. Then run as fast as you could." The man said as he clutched his bleeding arm. Basch could not see the man's weapon and he slightly wondered what it was. He probably used a dirk, or a scimitar, judging from his stance. For a beast so huge, small weapons may not be efficient – by the time you get a shot at the beast, it would need only a short distance to retaliate. He wondered if the wound in his arm was a result of an exchange between him and the beast.

"Forgive me for saying this … but in your current condition, I doubt you'd even make it with that plan,"

The man laughed tiredly, his eyes squinting and his expression half a wince and half a grin; "Well then, if you want an unglamorous way of looking at it, it might take that horrid monster a few seconds to chew my body completely. Somehow you'd still be given some time to escape."

The man looked as though he were around the same age as Basch was, probably even younger judging from the nonchalant outlook he had with his own life. Yet he admired his calmness despite their seemingly impending doom. When Basch focused on what was ahead of him once more and saw the number of lobos in front of him that were ready to pounce, he felt the blood rushing in his veins. Unlike the man, he was anything but calm. The blood pumped briskly, loudly, that he heard pounding in his own head. He could not even make out the words that were coming out of the Ashe's mouth any longer.

"I have a better plan. I give you an elixir and my sword… and I entrust her to you as well," the man barely caught the semi-conscious Ashe in his arms and he had no chance to disagree. "She is in a very delicate condition right now, please protect her and I will protect you both."

With that, he bravely ran forward to face the enemies, barely thinking about the soundness of his decision. Was it right to entrust the queen's life to a complete stranger? Was it right to ask a wounded man such a big favor?

Ashe's eyes were half open and she seemed to have fallen asleep. She didn't even hear the man holding her shout at her companion for what he had just done. Everything just seemed to be hazy…

Basch reached the center of the pack and was face to face with the mark. Several lobos attacked him at once, but somehow he looked like he didn't feel a single thing.

A thick mist suddenly covered him, and with a loud battle cry, he pummeled the beast with everything he had. A combination of darkness and light… flames and explosions disappeared just as quickly as they came. It happened so quickly that the injured man barely saw what had happened. All he saw was the seemingly never ending darkness, a black hole that swallowed the enemies whole. When the sunlight was back and everything was clear once more, nothing but dead carcasses of lobos could be found scattered about and the Plague re-emerged – alive but greatly weakened than before. It moaned – out of anger or pain, he was not very sure.

Basch had not expected the fiend to last this long, and to fight it unarmed seemed to be a bad idea.

"Take it!" the man shouted as he threw the sword towards his direction. The wolf attacked, more vicious than before and the knight barely evaded it. He dove down the sand to go behind the wolf and he successfully got the sword.

Basch breathed heavily as his sweat and blood trickled down from his head and his arms. Yet his eyes remained focused on his target. He only realized at that point that it was more than twice his size. Yet it was slow, and it almost breathed as heavily as he did. He lifted the sword and placed it in position in front of him. It may seem like they were of the same level now, yet he knew… he knew he still had the upper hand.

He looked behind him and noticed that the queen has not regained consciousness. He shook his head in an effort to clear his mind and clutched the sword with his two shaking hands. Yet his mind chose to rebel. _Save the Queen_, he kept on remembering the name of the sword he currently had and was somehow annoyed at how fate jested with him. He was her only hope now and he had no room for failure. Time and time again he failed to protect those he had vowed to protect and he knew he was still on a long road towards redemption. Now was not the time to fail. Now was not the time to die. Suddenly full of rage and resolve, he moved forward once again as though he just drank a full bottle of Bacchus's wine.

Amon watched the battle in front of him, not quite sure who he should be more scared of – the monster or the warrior that stepped forth to fight it. His shirt was now covered with blood, both from his own body and from his foe. Yet he moved on like a berserker as he hit the wolf over and over again. He had the sudden urge to help the man, yet the woman he left him with made him think otherwise. She seemed to be completely oblivious to what was happening, asleep as she was. He guessed that it was better that way; after all he vaguely knew how unpleasant it could be for a woman to see her man struggling to kill and not be killed in the process. He moved to a more comfortable position so that he was in front of her and ready to shield her should a threat suddenly appear.

He did not know where his sudden devotion to her came from – he guessed it was because the man risking his life to save them now had forced him to think that way. He would protect her, after all, how could he not? She did look delicate as the knight had said, too _delicate_ in fact, in a sense quite different from what the knight may have meant.

"Just a little bit more…" Basch told himself as he saw the beast writhing. Its pelt was already soaked with blood and its ribs were already protruding. Yet he knew he could not let his guard down just yet.

The Plague made a sound and the ground shook. Basch lost his balance and fell on the sandy ground. The monster took its chance and pounced on him, trapping him under its weight. He quickly disappeared from Amon's view and the man suddenly tensed up in agitation. Was he dead? Was it dead? He was not too sure. Before he could draw his weapon, he heard an agonized howl and the wolf ungracefully fell completely on the ground, its fallen weight caused a small fog of sand to appear. When the area was cleared, he saw the knight once more, breathing heavily as he lay in the ground beside the creature with one of his arms still inside the monster's mouth.

"Is … Is it dead?" Amon asked as he looked at the frightful scene, "Your arm is still inside… you can feel it can't you?"

"Regretfully… yes." Basch replied in between breaths. He faintly felt the pain for every part of his body seemed to be full of it. Even as he felt the plague's last breaths vibrating in his arm, it only disturbed him slightly for he was more concerned about something else. "Is… she… all right?"

His initial shock caused a delay in his reply. Tentatively, Amon looked behind him and saw the queen's still form. "I checked her breathing and her pulse a while ago. She doesn't seem to be in a weakened state. If I didn't know any better, I would think that she probably got disabled or put to sleep."

"She stepped on a trap," he said, not moving from his position in the ground beside the wolf, visibly tired, But Amon quickly noted the pain in his eyes. "It was my fault."

"A numbing trap. I see. Don't be too hard on yourself;" Amon reassured him when he realized that the knight had been feeling pain for her and not for himself. "You saved our hides. I'm sure she'd be all over you once she wakes up."

Basch fought the pain and rose awkwardly to a sitting position. He carefully pushed the Plague's snout and tried to pull out his arm. He felt its teeth scrapping through his arm, ripping his sleeve to mere tatters and leaving his arms feeling raw from its new wounds.

"Let me take care of that wolf, you go sit here with her," Amon said as he offered his hand to pull Basch back to his feet. "Name's Amon by the way. I wish we could've met under better circumstances."

"Same here," Basch shook slightly from fatigue. He managed to walk a few steps, only to slump back to the ground beside Ashe. "My name is Basch, and she is … Amalia. I thank you for keeping her safe."

He was about to scold him for bringing her with him despite the _condition_ she had as he had informed him, but as he saw the way he gingerly brushed away her hair from her forehead with his uninjured hand, he decided to keep his mouth shut. He decided to focus his attention somewhere else to give the couple some privacy. He then brought out his dagger and poached the animal as quickly as he could and took the pelts of the other casualties as well.

"I left the Elixir there by the way. I did not need it as I got the rest I needed as you fought. Go and drink it for heaven's sake,"

Basch looked beside him and saw the bottle. He uncapped it and lifted Ashe slightly, letting her drink some of the fluid, praying once that she does not choke on it.

She coughed and stirred as she tasted the sweet liquid in her mouth. Her head still felt a bit heavy with sleep and she struggled to stay awake. Images kept on flashing in her head. She recognized some of what she saw yet others were just nameless faces or blurred pictures.

Basch finally let out the breath he didn't know he had been holding as he set the bottle aside and helped her into a sitting position.

"Are you feeling…"

"Get… get out of there. You mustn't die… You mustn't die…." she stated softly yet frantically, her eyes a bit tearful yet not fully awake. She saw it in her head. A man in danger… he… he was going to die. She did not know him but she felt it. She felt it in her heart. He must not.... she would not bear it…. He could not go on saving her kingdom. He could not go on doing her duty for the price of his life…

He did not understand her words or the despair she had. He held her shoulders as he tried to calm her and yet she became almost weepy. Had she been awake all this time? Did she see it? Did his violent onslaught affect her in any way?

"It is over, the threat is gone…" he whispered, hoping to soothe her. "It's all right…"

"No… Bahamut is… it's falling…"

The Bahamut? It was then that he remembered what she had been saying earlier. A bargain made with her ring – a payment – She must have been thinking hard about it since that incident with the bangaa yet the memory she had retrieved did not reach back far enough. The person she thought of… it must have been… "It's all right," he whispered, trying to comfort her, "He did not die. He's all right."

"Are you sure?" she asked as she closed her eyes after being slightly blinded by the warm sunlight.

"Yes. I assure you, he's fine. He returned your ring, did he not?"

"You're right… your right," she said softly as she laid her head at the nook of his neck and touched the ring in her finger.

So it was Balthier that she had remembered, Basch thought as he tried to put the pieces together. An odd feeling came over him, one he could not fully explain as he came across this conclusion. She was comfortably resting in his arms while he was fully aware that she thought of another. It made him feel… it made him feel…

It did not matter, he thought as he shook his head to clear his thoughts. She seemed to have been half awake all along as she failed to notice everything that had happened around her. The way she lay in his arms was nothing more but a matter of circumstance– one he mustn't prolong and one he must definitely not take advantage of. She may even be fully oblivious to it all. The trap may have had stronger magiks than he had expected which was why staying awake became such a hurdle for her. He wanted to wake her yet her calm breathing and her serene expression made him think otherwise. Maybe she truly needed some sleep, what with all the stress she had been through for the past few hours. He decided to let her be.

She will be all right, he chanted softly to himself as he tried to calm his own heart. He moved slightly to give her some space yet she seemed to continue to cling to him. He decided to give in to the temptation he simply could not resist. With shaking hands, he got a cleaned pelt he found lying nearby and covered her with it, hoping that it would prevent him from staining her with his blood as he continued to hold her close. He prayed once to the heavens for forgiveness for his forbearance (or the lack thereof), as he whispered an apology to her as well.

"Here's another one. You might need it. I managed to sun dry it yesterday," he suddenly heard Amon's voice above him as he offered him the pelt.

Basch nodded in gratitude, suddenly feeling too exhausted to speak. He suddenly felt drained, more tired than he was earlier. It must have been the loss of blood, he thought to himself as he felt lightheaded. What he saw alternated from visions of sunlight upon bodies of dead lobos and images of the princess and the sky pirate walking side by side as they had months ago. The dull ache in his chest was also starting to bother him. He did not know why… but the last time he had this feeling as far as he could recall was that time when the princess mourned for her dead husband as he stood nearby, incapable of doing anything but watch. As the memories came back, he realized that the expression she had as she pleaded to the sky pirate that last time they were together in the Strahl was no different from that time in Lord Rasler's wake.

"Don't look so glum there Basch," Amon said as he placed a hand on his shoulder, "She'll regain consciousness soon. I suppose that it's better for her to remain asleep for now. That would keep her from panicking!" he encouraged the knight as he heard Amalia's tearful voice earlier. She must have been so relieved to see that he was well. She sounded so anxious, angry even. Maybe she even panicked after seeing the horrid condition Basch was currently in, he thought.

"Thank you," He replied as he gathered up his strength to shake himself off from his stupor. He stood up despite the pain, with Ashe in his arms. "We should probably start going back to camp."

Amon nodded in agreement and took his place in front to guard both Basch and Amalia this time around. He heard the knight breathing heavily and was about to offer to carry her for him but as he noticed the distant look in his eyes and the way he held her close, he supposed it would be more offensive than helpful to do that. He simply remained quiet and focused on his task.

They reached the camp in no time, probably because no monsters got in the way. Amon thought that the hunter's camp was not as noisy as usual. It was probably because it was that lazy time in the afternoon. The sun was warmer yet the breeze was more comforting. The birds and the other creatures of the island were probably less agitated with the threat gone, and that fact that the hunters were probably not as perceptive and not aware of this, and were still in hiding - probably caused the unusual calm in the camp.

"Amon?" Mighty asked tentatively as he saw his familiar stride as he got closer to his line of sight. "Amon! It is you, kupo!" the moogle exclaimed as he jumped merrily.

"Hello Mighty, nice to see you," Amon greeted the moogle kindly as he gave him a high five, "Say Mighty, we can talk more later but right now, these people need some help," he said as he moved to the side so that Basch and Ashe came to Mighty's view.

"Basch! Amalia!" Mighty jumped in surprise as he saw how bloodied the knight was and the way he still managed to carry the unconscious woman in his arms.

"You know them already?"

"Yes, they were here a while ago. Even had a deal with Atak," the moogle shook his head, "He even left his sword with him. They made a deal that he'd get an automatic endorsement if he beats the Plague."

"That bangaa would never learn," Amon sighed, "Well I say we make Basch a hunter… make that an Elite hunter! He doesn't need Atak's endorsement. I declare him one myself."

"Wow Basch, did you hear that? That's the first time I've heard Amon say something like that. It really must be a…-"

"Excuse me but… I think I should probably…." Weakness was evident in Basch's voice and both Amon and Mighty visibly tensed up with panic.

"Oh… that's right, that's right. How thoughtless of me. I have prepared a cottage nearby since somehow I knew you guys would come back!" the moogle said as he walked briskly towards the said cottage. "It's still a bit messy but it is somehow… er… livable."

"If you want, you can stay in my cottage Basch," Amon offered.

"Thank you very much for your hospitality. I appreciate all of this, but I do not wish to make any imposition" His eyes were already half closed from fatigue and the floor was starting to shake beneath him. "A bed… would be sufficient."

"What about you Basch? You're seriously hurt! – "

"– I will be fine."

Mighty opened the cottage's door and Basch stepped in. Quickly spotting the bed, he laid Ashe gently in it, careful not to wake her from her slumber. He knelt down by the bed for a while as he watched her breathe.

"Basch, you should probably…."

"Okay, Mighty and I will just be around. Just peek out if you need anything," Amon said as he pulled the moogle away and dragged him out of the cottage. He knew how noisy and nosy the moogle could be, and having him around might complicate things.

"The medicine kit is there by the sink, kupo!" Mighty's voice was heard just before Amon closed the door. Soon it was quiet inside the cottage once again.

The light the sun provided by the window was enough for him to see everything inside the cottage. There were several boxes in a corner, a sink, a small table and a cupboard. He stood up, staggering slightly and almost hitting a lamp nearby. He struggled to reach the sink and managed to wash his hands. He still had the pelt Amon gave him and he used it to stop the blood that was trickling down his injured arm. He shuffled about and looked and opened some of the boxes. He sighed when he finally found what he was looking for. He fumbled a bit and managed to get the blanket, holding it a distance away from him, afraid to sully it. He walked slowly back to the bed, trying to avoid the moving floors he saw with his eyes.

He then carefully tucked in Ashe, just like he how he saw her maids do when she was younger… just like how he used to do so whenever he had the chance. He looked at her as she was the only thing that was not shifting or moving in his world that moment. Yet soon he looked away, knowing that even guardians were not allowed to stare. He backtracked a bit and slumped ungracefully on the floor, finally feeling his limbs surrendering to pain with his eyelids closing to oblivion. A nap… he probably needed a short nap. He should rest a bit for now to have some energy once he wakes up, he thought. Yet his mind lingered a bit before he let go. In his mind… no, in his imagination, he saw her, with that serene expression and that beautiful face he had burned in his head earlier. There she was smiling in her sleep. Dreaming of someone…. Dreaming of him.

Before he could chastise himself for his absurd and indiscreet thoughts that he knew were far from reality, his body already took over and let him get the rest it demanded of him.

* * *

Author's notes:

I have been interested in the FF12 characters' name etymologies and I came across some interesting conclusions. I would like to share it with you because it's funny and I want to prove to myself that all of the stuff made sense.

Well, since he was mentioned here, I'd start with Balthier. In the Japanese version, he was called "Baflear" if I'm not mistaken. Well. Obviously, flear can mean "flower", or it can be from the French word "fleureter" which means "to talk sweet nonsense" aka Flirt. Hahaha. On a more positive sense, Balthier can be associated to Baldur or Balder, a brave prince or hero. Hmmm…. Interesting don't you think? Check out etymonline if you don't believe me! So that's it for the educational portion of the fic. Which is actually… after the fic.

See you guys next time. The next chapter is a prologue to domestication. Hmm… what that means, well… you'd just have to wait and see. Mwahahaha.

Thanks to all who reviewed! Bye!!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

He knew his eyes were closed, but he could feel warmth in his eyelids and the darkness didn't seem as dark. He rolled back on his side, as if trying to fling himself back to the darkness. He knew how to loathe the dark, yet somehow he learned to befriend it as well. In the years he had been caged, the dark had been his only constant companion - for even the bugs and rats were fickle and flighty. Darkness never left him; darkness always lingered.

He moved his arms a little as if to embrace his friend and yet… instead of feeling nothing as he had expected, he felt something smooth… soft. No, it wasn't cold like bars or chains, nor was it unrelenting as concrete. Could it be that it was darkness that embraced him instead? He felt comfortable, cozy even and he snuggled deeper into whatever it was that he was holding.

He never knew darkness could be so sweet… and so … alluring? He breathed in, feeling a certain sense of ease in his chest. It smelled of flowers… beautiful flowers just like those in his hometown. The same crimson flowers he found unexpectedly in the deserts of Dalmasca. He was told that those flowers were rare in that area, and they were called by a different name. He wondered. Did he really forget the smell of home? Or was it just another reality… that his home stretched far beyond than the boundaries set by the politics of Landis. Nevertheless, he enjoyed the feeling. The smell of home… smell of calmness and tranquility – it had been a while since he last savored it. The smell of flowers… that soft feeling…

And then he smelled smoke.

He asked himself, was he dreaming? Was this the part where everything gets shattered in his perfect world? No… no… had seen this nightmare before. He was not afraid. Let it come. Displaying a stubbornness he usually seemed not to have, he made himself sink deeper into oblivion. But it did not happen. He could not shake off the feeling… smoke… smoke… he could smell smoke… Smoke? Why would there be smoke in the dark… in his home… no… in Dalmasca…. Dalmasca? No. He was not in Dalmasca… he was in…

Ashe did not even see her patient stir in his sleep. Seconds ago she was holding burnt bread and was helplessly tugging it away from the fire… and now that same fire in the stove diminished into dark fog. Her initial shock caused her to freeze for a few seconds until she heard the bread that was supposedly stuck in the prong she was holding _dematerialize_ and fall with a soft "thump" in the wooden floor.

"Good… Morning?" She said tentatively as she kicked the bread under the table, as if removing incriminating evidence.

Basch swayed a bit, feeling vertiginous dizziness probably brought about by his sudden rousing. "What…happened?" he was still squinting from the brightness, "are you all right?"

She had practiced what she was going to tell the knight when he awoke. She had it all figured out in her head. She was going to scold him… she would raise her voice, and if need be, she would shout furiously at him. She would order him … make pacts with him and once she had drilled everything into his thick head, she would ask him if he was feeling all right… and make him sit on the chair… and give him breakfast….

But now that the tables were turned, and he was the one who asked about her state…and the breakfast she was preparing was half a disaster… no, there was still the porridge… bur then again… "I…I…" and how could she get mad at him when he was looking so confused… and vulnerable… and half naked…

"Highness, are you all right?" He repeated, with his eyes more open than a while ago.

"Highness?" she started, forcing herself to focus. "Do not tell me you too lost your memory."

"Amalia…" he bent his head and had a hint of a smile, "I'm sorry."

"Yes, you'd better be sorry!" Ashe finally got a good hold of her chagrin. "What kind of carelessness entered your head that you intentionally forgot about seeking help when you knew you needed help?" she looked up and saw the man unmoving in front of her, "You did know, didn't you sir Knight? Or were you feeling too cocky as well, that you actually thought that you were immortal and incapable of bleeding to death?"

He faintly knew what she was talking about … but as he glanced around the room… saw the gauzes and salves laying around and … the disheveled bed….

"Do you know how furious I was when I suddenly woke up, not knowing when I slept, only to find you _dying_ on the floor by the door?" She shook slightly, as she remembered the images in her head. His clothes were tattered and whatever remained was stained with blood. She did not know if he was alive and she almost felt tears in her eyes when she realized he was still breathing… breathing shallowly, but breathing nonetheless. "You had me running around like a lunatic… alone… and confused and I did not know what to do!"

Basch looked at her then, and did see the fear in her eyes despite the anger in her voice. He did not know how to make amends. He must have caused her lots of trouble.

"And it was a good thing Mighty was there. Amon was there as well. What do you think could have happened if they were not there? Do you know?" she breathed in deeply to calm her heart. She felt like she had been so close… so close to the only link she had in her life now, to the person she never knew she was so dependent upon. She honestly felt like she was going to lose someone _dear_ before she even fully remembered him. "You could have wakened me you know, you could have asked for help. I dislike being helpless… I highly dislike it."

She stopped as she caught her breath. She had said her piece. And she was calm. Yes… she was not fully there but she was somehow already calm. It did not go as she expected it to, as she had planned it to. Should she have stressed her point more? Should she have raised her voice more? Or no… surely her display of emotion had been uncharacteristic of a monarch. Yet she was Amalia now, wasn't she? But he may not have been used to it… Suddenly she felt guilty for lashing out at him. Maybe she had been too harsh…

"Please forgive me," was all Basch could say. It could've been better if she had raised her voice or if she pummeled him, yet she spoke in controlled tones. Even he felt the pain in her heart – pain he knew he had caused. "I do not know how to properly make amends with you."

"Well," she sighed, turning away from him to calm her heart even more for the storm that had passed and for the other one that was about to come, "You could start by eating the breakfast I had prepared for you."

She cooked. She actually cooked! Basch stared at the table, partly mortified when he saw the plates and the set utensils. His offenses seemed to escalate each minute. He pictured the late King Raminas in his head. What would he say if he learns that he actually made her royal highness cook … for him … of all people?

She saw Basch sit awkwardly in the chair by the table. His generally unkempt look down to the few days' growth of unshaved hair in the lower side of his face added to the odd expression he had as he saw the food in the table made her realize how miserable he seemed to be. She fiddled with her apron slightly and tried to look for something she could do for him. Despite her anger, after what Mighty and Amon told her about the day before… how Basch saved them, how he cared for her. It was not just a matter of paying back (both in the good and bad sense). Somehow she felt like she wanted to go beyond that.

Ashe went to the side of the room and started making the bed as she thought of what chore she could do next. She checked the sheets and was thankful that there were no more traces of blood. His wounds must have closed already.

"Highn…Amalia, I would fix the bed… please do not…"

"Eat." She said sternly like a mother to her child, although deep down, she was anxious about the results of her first cooking endeavor.

He nodded meekly and started stirring the …. _Stew_ … she had prepared for him. He barely had any appetite at the moment. What with the sermon he got earlier and the way the she did the chores for his eyes to see. Yet some men do like to plunge in deeper into the pit of chaos… "I'm sorry. I do not know what happened but… I must have inconvenienced you… with the _sleeping arrangements_."

"It's all right," she sighed, as she smoothed out the sheets at the edges of the bed. "_It's a wide bed_," she added, somewhat unconsciously.

He stopped stirring and dropped the spoon altogether. He felt cold sweat in his forehead. "_Lord Rasler… please forgive me… "_ he silently thought as he suddenly wished for his instant demise.

She glanced at him from the bed and saw that he was not moving at all. Was she too harsh on him? Or… maybe it was the food. He wouldn't think it was poisonous, now would he? Men had delicate tastes, at least that was what she thought. Maybe he was used to eating good, decent food. Maybe…

"I know it had been my first time to cook. It may not be the best, but beggars can't be choosers," she said, gathering up her pride and sitting beside him on the table. She got the other serving of the porridge she made and set it in front of her. "Perhaps it would be more comfortable if I dined with you?"

Basch meekly nodded once more as he heard himself wailing in his mind. Never had he felt this awkward before in his life. Pain was definite, joy was definite… yet this awkwardness just made him feel more… awkward.

"Are you going to eat it or not?"

"Yes… I am sorry," he shook his head. He must not offend her more. He knew how it was, cooking was an extension of a woman's soul, or at least that was what his mother told him. He should have devoured it moments ago.

She looked intently at him as he got a spoonful and placed it in his mouth. He had a stony expression in his face and she did not know if she should take it as a good sign or as a bad sign. "It is bad, isn't it?"

It took Basch a while to reply, "It is… Interesting."

"So it is bad,"

"I think you misunderstand…" he quickly replied, as he quickly pushed another spoonful to his mouth. He did not know how to describe it. It wasn't bad. Not bad at all. It was beyond that.

After seeing him with his appetite back, she sighed, and tried to suppress a smile. "I was very apprehensive at first… I have never cooked before. But Mighty came and gave us some rations. I thought I would make some porridge… as I saw some oats and milk and sugar… and salt…"

"And some … fish?" Basch asked, somewhat dubiously as he used his hand to take out what seemed to be a fish scale from his mouth.

"Yes, some fish and herbs and cabbages. I thought you had to regain much of your energy and the only way to do it was to give you a powerful breakfast," she said confidently, fully convinced with her idea, "right?"

He nodded briefly, hoping his small smile won't look like a grimace. "That was very thoughtful of you." At the back of his mind, he wondered whether the consumption of half cooked oats could lead to indigestion.

"That's why," she said as she decided to sample the food herself, "you should take care of yourself from now on."

He was in the middle of gulping down the "_porridge_" when he suddenly heard Ashe standing from her seat and running to the sink.

"Amalia, are you…?"

"What was that?!" she exclaimed furiously as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "That was by far the worst…" she then noticed him looking innocently at her, with the spoon still hanging from his mouth.

"I… that is…" She impulsively grabbed his bowl and tasted it herself. Sure enough, she pushed it back to him and she had to run back to the sink to spit it out. She stayed by the sink, leaning on it. Her back was to him and he did not know what was in her head.

"It isn't the worst…." He said, as he visualized what he had eaten in the Nalbina dungeons in his head. He tried to recreate the feeling he vowed to forget… that feeling of bile in his mouth as he tried to lick off the 'food' haphazardly thrown at him – food that not even the mice found palatable. Food that he wasn't quite sure of the source (and he thought it had been better off that way.) It was the same food that kept him alive, nonetheless. "It is actually far from it."

When she did not reply and remain in her position, he felt that he had offended her even more. "I thank you for cooking for me. It … may not be the best meal yet I truly appreciate the effort you exerted."

Ashe felt her eyes burning. She scolded herself for her incapacity… and the weakness she was about to display. No. how could she let such a trivial matter bother her? She must not… She had to be strong. "Your mother, was she a good cook?"

He was taken aback by her question as it was completely unexpected. He did not know if he should lie to make her feel better or to be honest to make her hear what she wanted to hear. He decided to go with the latter, knowing fully well how wise she was and how she would see through his lie in the first place.

"Aye, she was," he replied, not merely out of loyalty of a son to his departed mother. He tried to recall it… that soup she made for him and Noah on a snowy day… when they were sick in bed after playing in the snow the whole night before… he did not remember if it were salty or sweet… or what it contained, or what it was called. All he remembered was that it was good. It was the best. It was his mother's soup. It was his and Noah's soup. Just like how the… _porridge_ he had now… undelectable as it seemed, was his. It was Ashe's porridge and it was his.

"I can't remember if my mother was a good cook… if she ever did cook or not," She said thoughtfully as she rubbed her eyes, "Yet for my current state, learning would be easier than remembering, don't you think so?"

He nodded. "You'll get the hang of it," he said comfortingly. "We could work on it… together. I could not say I am a good cook myself, but if you would permit it, maybe we could take it one step at a time."

Her face visibly brightened in an instant and she quickly sat beside him at the table once more. "I would like that very much Basch," she said as she felt excitement in her heart.

He was happy to see her happy once more, unlike the way she was the moment he awoke. Maybe doing some mundane chores with her would not be so bad. She would have fewer things to do if he did everything efficiently before she did… or maybe she could do some chores, provided it wouldn't be taxing and it would prevent her boredom… and well… there was that thought of her cooking another meal for him… "How blasphemous!" He thought, as he mentally berated himself, yet admitting he fancied the idea nonetheless.

"But you must promise me one thing though," Ashe said seriously, her smile suddenly gone from her face, "You must not tell Amon and the other hunters that I do not know how to cook," she stopped, hesitating a bit and looking away, "After all, I cannot have them thinking you have such an incompetent woman as your _wife_."

She was incompetent… wife… "W...w…Wife?" his mind reeled at the thought. "I cannot have them thinking of you _as my _wife!"

She looked at him sharply; looking partly upset and partly annoyed, "Is it that bad? Would you rather have me dishonored then, after you had implied that I was heavy with child?"

His head started pounding and breathing started to become difficult, "I could not recall saying such a …"

"Amon said that you told him that I was in a _very delicate condition_." She stressed each word by tapping her hand lightly on the table.

"I… I did say that, however… I did not mean it that way," he stuttered slightly, suddenly feeling like a cornered chocobo. "I shall clear things up this instant."

Ashe slumped ungracefully in the chair as she watched him stand stiffly, "All right, explain to them everything. Every single detail…"

"Yes… I shall fix this mess…"

"Give them a reason to make our situation complicated… the way we are to stay in this small cottage. Together… in private for several months," she added dryly.

"But the hunter's camp is a fully democratic place…"

"Yes, I bet it is so democratic that you can actually walk around outside in your trousers."

When she saw him suddenly freeze on his tracks, look down and go into a state of stupor, she felt herself slipping down her chair, stopping herself from laughing or even feeling shame herself.

"Our clothes are on the table, by the bed," she managed to whisper as she got up and faced towards the sink, in an effort to cast her gaze somewhere else. After which she heard him mutter a faint and curt "thank you".

"Captain Basch, a little white lie never really hurt anyone…" Ashe said in a seemingly childlike yet serious manner that vaguely reminded Basch of Vaan.

Yet it wasn't a _little_ _white lie_ to him at all. What could be the repercussions of this … act? Did it violate the codes of conduct set by the orders of Dalmasca? What… what was he thinking? Could he have been overreacting to this? Was it out of shame? Was it out of guilt? Was it because… was it because this … act… was an illusion of his from the very beginning?

She looked at him curiously and wondered if his silence meant anger or something else. Could she have overstepped her bounds this time? Could she have brought this game of make pretend too far? "I'm sorry Basch… I suppose your principles would prevent you from posing as someone else's husband…" could it be possible that… well… she gathered up her courage and finally blurted out, "are we violating someone's right?"

"Violating someone's right?"

"Like you know… do I have someone…?"

"None that I know of, presently...." He managed to say, feeling that it was improper to tell her about the Sky Pirate… feeling it was unverified… feeling it was something too personal to her that he cannot just say it out loud.

Completely missing the hesitation in his voice, she continued, "Do you?"

Do I?... "Oh… no…"

"None you know of?"

"None, no one at all," of course he knew. He just vowed never to let her know.

"That settles it then, unless you still have qualms against it"

Was this really happening to him? He asked himself a multitude of questions as he saw her gaze fully focused on him, as if waiting for a reaction. Was it right to go with her game? Was it fair? Maybe… maybe he is just making a big deal out of it.

"Oh all right, I white lie could possibly not hurt anyone," he mumbled, "too much."

"That's wonderful," Ashe smiled, her eyes twinkling when she realized she had her way. She did not know why, but somehow posing as a wife greatly appealed to her. "So Basch, how would you like me to call you, darling, love or dear?"

"You… you may call me Basch."

It was only after he left the room that she finally let out her laughter.

* * *

Author's notes:

Haha. That was kinda fun. Sorry, I was in fangirl mode. I couldn't help it. Hahaha. Hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I did. And sorry for the ooc-ness.

As promised. The name etymology for today is Vaan. Well, behindthename said it meant "Cloud" in Vietnamese. Hmm…Cloud…Squall…Tidus…Vaan? Hmmm. From etymonline, Vaan can also be associated with Vanguard (leader – in front) or Vandal (wanderer). So there. Hope that made sense. Well. See you next time!


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

It always rained in Nabudis. It did not use to be that way. A Nabradian probably would not forget bright summers, not unlike those in Dalmasca. The sky was often clear; the weather had a nice temperament. The flora and fauna were exotic yet beautiful, from the fatal predators to the meek prey. Villages were small yet they prospered. The neighborhood was simple and full of warmth. The self-sustaining state was peaceful and the people were happy.

Life was not easy, but it was not unbearable either. Many craftsmen emerged with their different schools. Scholars and poets were always in the city. Nabradia had been an area for culture and the arts yet it was technology that they valued the most. They may have been more conservative than Archadia was, but the structures and gizmos their craftsmen had created surely were more useful to the common man. Nabradia was progressing. The people were happy.

That was until the war broke out.

Everyone thought that it would be only temporary; that the bouts of violence would end with a triumphant victory. Young men had volunteered to protect the motherland. Mothers told their children stories of the glory of the place before it had been turned into a shelter, to keep families safe from attacks. Many of the structures built by the ancestors were destroyed and the craftsmen's schools have all disappeared or have gone underground. It was not known if the pupils had survived, if it had been possible for them to pass on whatever it was that they had learned to the future generations. But nevertheless, most of the people were open to rebuilding, open to defending their land, open to alliances.

But all their hopes were destroyed on that fateful day after the mist swallowed the capital whole. As if the ravishing of Nalbina was not enough, Nabudis had to be completely obliterated as well. The mist was still thick to this day and death lingered like an old lullaby.

He was told that a bright light suddenly covered the area. Then the shifting aurora descended from the sky and an explosion followed. Hell seemed to rise from under the land and the fire consumed everyone and everything it could touch. It scorched the land, ridding it of life. Yet this did not happen in a blink of an eye. The people had to die slowly and there was no room for escape. Their moans echoed for the nearby towns to hear yet no one could help for the mist was thick and the fires were ruthless.

No one was spared. The enemies, the soldiers, the women and the children, they all died. Even the machines the craftsmen had left behind had been corrupted and left without any guidance. Vile creatures took over the land, pillaging whatever was left and utterly desecrating it. Souls have lingered for they probably could not accept the fate that had befallen them. The living was left to mourn for never having the chance to return to their homeland, for never having the chance to die there with their loved ones.

Remembering fond memories of the past had become a hurdle when the land one had strolled on turned into marshes, full of wicked creatures and the undead. Seeing what had become of the precious land would cause one to be full of anger. A mind filled with rage would make evil seem so pleasant. Evil would seem to be the only means for retribution… and for a crime so great, only perdition can be a fit punishment.

The land was ravaged and destroyed, without a tinge of mercy. Now the undead cry for justice and the land the sun once kissed had turned cold and lifeless. And what was left of the living? It was not simple to just move on and forget. To forget was to betray those whose lives have been taken in the most inhumane way.

Who would avenge Nabudis? Who would help heal the wounds of Nabradia? Who would see to the welfare of this kingdom, once glorious but now destroyed?

He believed in their alliance. He believed in Dalmasca.

Many thought it was a fine match. The Dalmasan throne was said to be occupied by honorable men. The princess was of course a beauty to gaze upon yet it was rumored that her courage rivaled that of her own brothers. She was a fitting bride for the prince, for she was loyal to him and was always behind his back. When the prince died, she remained there, dressed in black, mourning with the people of Nabradia.

But people change.

The fickle excuse for a monarch happily allied with the scum that is Archadia. Had she no respect for the man she had claimed to love? Had she no respect his kingdom? Had she no respect for her own kingdom that was wrecked by the enemy as well? What about her father? Her brothers? Her countrymen? Did she not remember them?

Then losing her memory may not be too much of a loss, he thought, after all, these memories had no bearing on her decisions at all. She did not deserve the memories. She did not deserve to live.

Yet he _let_ her.

Because he needed her. He _needed her to destroy them_. He wanted her to _destroy herself_ for she deserved nothing more, nothing less.

She had the dynast king's blood in her veins… although she clearly did not deserve to belong to that lineage. She was fickle and forgetful. She did not care for those who had perished. She did not care for those who fought for her. She was a traitor.

Yet surely the Dynast king would understand his intentions. For he loved his kingdom, for he loved Ivalice. Sometimes the light is not enough to fight the darkness for even shadows result from its futile struggle.

The dynast king had left too many mysteries… too much latent power to his descendants' disposal.

Maybe he had seen his own intentions which was why the fallen monarch had led him there, to the temple in the heart of Ivalice where the power for utter destruction was kept. It would be enough to use for repayment. It would be enough to destroy the enemy.

The woman should thank him. He was doing her a favor. Only by using the destructive force waiting to be actuated by her blood … to destroy the destroyer of Ivalice would her sins be lessened.

And with her death, she may be forgiven.

She may hide all she wants… but he will find her. And when that happens, Nabudis will be avenged.

The cries of the undead got louder and louder each day. He would give her to them, he promised. She will join them soon. And she will have no choice but atone for all eternity.

* * *

The ring was tight around her fingers. She looked at it with slight fascination as it glimmered once touched by sunlight. Contemplatively, she cradled her fingers with her other hand as she tried to remember what importance it had served in her life. Basch said she cherished it more than anything, and his words seemed plausible enough. The ring stayed in her fingers, no matter what she did, and having it there was like breathing. It was like the ring had been part of her own body.

She looked around once, making sure she truly was alone in the cottage as she decided to remove the band. It was tight and hard to slip off at first yet after much prodding it came off. The ring was heavier than she had thought and the sound it made as it fell on the table was louder than she had expected. The sound startled her yet it was the sight that completely astonished her. Seeing it in a place other than her finger seemed odd, so odd that she quickly thought of putting it back on. Yet as she touched the ring with the tip of her fingertips, she felt the scratches… no… the grooves in the ring's interior. She quickly brought it closer to her line of sight to see what it was.

"Rasler Heios Nabradia."

An engraved passage? The three words made no sense. Could she have forgotten a language she knew? Rasler Heios Nabradia. She chanted the words over and over again, as if trying it in her tongue, as if trying to see if hearing it would make her feel a certain sense of familiarity. Rasler… Rasler…

Nothing.

Rasler… Heios … Nabradia…

She toyed with the metal band as she pondered on it more. She chanted the name and even made it somewhat like a song and yet the meaningless words just continued to play in her mind.

She did not realize she had been chanting the name out loud until she saw a pair of eyes looking at her as if he were listening himself.

"Basch!" she exclaimed, suddenly feeling shy about what she had done. Surely her childish chanting may have looked funny.

"I'm… I'm sorry, I seem to have startled you," was his soft reply. He looked somewhat embarrassed himself. Yet embarrassment wasn't the right feeling, Ashe thought, somehow, he looked… he looked worried.

She got up from her seat and moved slightly, pushing the chair in front of her as if imploring Basch to sit on it. He seemed hesitant, but he caught on to her implied request.

"Say Basch, I saw some unfamiliar words written in my ring. Rasler Heios Nabradia. What does it mean?"

She focused her attention on the ring once more that she failed to see the surprised look in his eyes. He breathed in deeply once, as if he were about to do something difficult.

"Would you happen to know? I can't seem to remember anything…"

"It is a name," he said curtly, almost indifferently, yet in his mind he was already trying to figure out what his next words should be.

_He was the man you loved. He was the man you married. _

"A name?" she looked as if she was slowly gestating the new information, "A name…"

_He is gone. You still miss him. _

"It sounds like a ….powerful name then… but… why is it in my ring?"

_I was there when he died. I could not prevent it from happening. _

"He was the prince of the kingdom of Nabradia after all. Surely it is a fitting name."

"A prince," with brows knotted she focused her whole attention on him, "then what of the ring?"

He avoided her gaze and looked away. How could she have forgotten him? How did this… how will he…"It was your wedding band"

She remained silent, yet her widened eyes could not hide her surprise. Married… she was married? What kind of union could it have been? Was it worth forgetting? Did he love her? Did she love him? "But you said that we weren't … that is … I was not betrothed to anyone…"

"He…" He never liked to be the bearer of bad news. How could he not remember that fateful stormy night when he had arrived at the palace's steps, armor soaked in rain and blood. The prince barely breathed and his features were contorted in pain. How could he not remember… that scene he had always wanted to forget? There was Ashe, running down the steps, tears flowing down her face as she saw her beloved dying. He laid the prince down in her warm open arms as he turned colder and colder… his eyes clouded, his lips barely able to move.

The prince moved his hands with much effort… touching her face, caressing her cheek … gazing at her for the last time. Words were left unsaid yet the message was clear in his eyes. His hand fell limply as his eyes remained open despite the falling rain, as if he wanted to tell her that not even death could keep him from letting her know that he loved her.

And her tears did not stop falling… and her sorrow remains, locked in her heart. It was odd how forgotten memories could spare one from the pain yet will never be able to set her free completely.

"Would I rather not know?" her eyes were clear and bright, much unlike those eyes that shone with tears. He felt odd as she placed her hand on top of his arm, as if giving him some comfort when it was he who needed to do the comforting. "Our parting… was not a very good one… I suppose?"

He nodded, feeling the heavy burden in his heart.

"But I feel neither sorrow nor revulsion in my heart… he… he must have loved me,"

"He did. I give you my word."

"Then… then I suppose he would forgive me if I choose not to want to know more about him right now," she smiled, a bittersweet smile as she replaced the ring in her finger.

It felt sad how she could not even remember the man she supposedly loved and no feelings were triggered by the mention of his name.

Unlike Basch…

She was calm whenever he was near. What he had shown her so far was nothing short of gallantry and respect. Was it a confusion-induced feeling? Had she been wrong in thinking it, in feeling it?

Yet now that she thought about it, she could barely remember him, so it was not surprising that she could not remember her relationship with him. She knew he had been with Vossler in his duty of protecting her as a child; he had been with her in their quest to reclaim her throne. He mentioned some things about being part of her childhood yet… everything else was a blur…

So the comfort caused by Basch's presence possibly could not have been rooted to what she thought or what he had done to her in the past, but instead, the role he played now in her present. But how could she not feel a sense of comfort when he was near? After all, he was always there to protect her, to support her, or even do the simplest things for her.

She depended on him. She never had to wait for him. If she called, he would be there.

Somehow, it was something she had never felt before.

Sure, the man had his fair share of flaws. He was too timid and too aloof for his own good. He rarely smiled and he rarely talked and he never seemed to be comfortable to look her way.

Yet could that have been his own fault? Was she at fault as well? Of course he remembered her unlike the way she remembered him. His image of her was tainted by what they had been through in the past. How could she have missed that idea…?

"Basch, how was I before I … got sick," she asked suddenly "Had I been more withdrawn? Did I leave you alone? Was I distant?"

"I can't say you are wrong," he continued to look down as if his neck stiffened and prevented him from looking towards her direction, "but it was not your fault. You… never really … preferred my company."

"I didn't?" she tilted her head slightly as if trying to meet his gaze. She tried to remember something, anything. "Are you speaking the truth?"

He remained silent, and his unflappable expression did not give any clue away. He remembered well how it was. She had always been too free-spirited, and no amount of trouble could seem to bring her down. As a child she preferred to watch the soldiers training instead of staying within the limits of her wing in the palace as she had been told. She used to follow Vossler around like an eager squire, even asked him to teach her how to use the sword once, yet he turned her down, saying he could not possibly be gentle in teaching someone how to kill. She then asked him to teach her instead, with the intention of sparring with the raven haired soldier in the future. Yet her first bout had not been against him but the silver haired foreign prince instead. She was taken with him in an instant, as he was with her as well. Somehow, at that time he felt her slipping away from him forever. Never again would she be his little girl.

In their most recent quest together, she seemed as if she had not gotten over his involvement in her father's murder. That even though it was not he who killed him, his own flesh and blood did. They have drifted apart more than they ever had and the small bridges they tried to build were not enough to sustain it, to regain the friendship they once shared. Or maybe he was just too scarred from his years of solitude. Maybe he had forgotten how to catch her attention. Maybe he completely lost that ability to make her smile. But surely she had not been unpleasant. She managed to learn how to trust him again, after she was given no choice when Vossler had revealed his intentions.

"Basch?"

"I… I am sorry."

"You don't have to be," she replied, her voice softer than before, somehow seeming a bit timid, "if feelings were my only basis for knowing things… if my feelings truly weren't rooted to my memory, I would say that you're wrong Basch. I enjoy being with you. Very much. And it just saddens me how I can't seem to do anything but… well…cause you trouble"

"I beg to differ…"

"Basch," she said firmly as she placed her hand in his arm as if to get his full attention. "I've said this before and I'm not saying it again. If you think I don't like you… if you think you can't like me… then look at it this way. I… I as Amalia…the way I am now, I see you as a good friend. You are important to me. We're starting on a clean slate. Now it's all up to you where you want to go from here."

"…"

"I may not ever recall what the past had been yet I do not know what the future holds either. Who knows Basch? This chance may have happened for a reason. Maybe things would work out better than we want it to?"

"Thank you." He finally met her gaze and had a tentative smile. "It must be harder for you than it is for me. I am sorry if I could not make you any more comfortable than…"

"Oh Basch," she smiled herself as she got up and stood in front of him, "Stop trying so hard. I believe in you. We'll be just fine."

He nodded, in an almost solemn way as he let her words sink in. She believed in him. How he wanted to hear those words once again.

"Oh? What is that?" she suddenly grinned as she looked up to his face, "You suddenly seemed so happy there."

"What? Oh… I…"

"Silly," she laughed inwardly as she felt the happiness as well. Losing her memory was not bad as she had initially thought. Maybe this way, she'd see things in a new light.

Now if only he could do the same thing as well.

She could only hope.

* * *

Author's Notes: Okay okay, I know, those who have been following this are pissed at me right now. Sorry sorry!! I swear, I had tons of things to do, if I were Larsa, I won't even have a chance to go through a growth spurt!! But kidding aside, I know the chapter is short and not as 'yummy' but I'm halfway through the next chapter. We'll have some husband-wife action, I promise. This chapter is dedicated to Aorin! I hope you're hanging on there!! Haha. Aorin reminded me to stop being a lazy bum and start working. So there.

For the Name etymologies… well… I don't have my list right now, but I'll talk about something else. Have you guys noticed the Basch's necklace glitch in ff12? You see, in that scene in the nalbina dungeons, Basch's pendant was facing down like Quetzalcoatl in FF8 but then after he wears the red clothes (Which I strongly believe is a hand-me-down from Vossler btw…I'll discuss it next chapter) the pendant now faces up like an eagle or a firebird? Hmmm… is it just me or… hmmm… I have my theories on that, but if I write it down here, my author's note might comprise a whole new chapter! Well anyway, so long you guys, I promise to post the next chapter as soon as I finish it. Bye bye!! Thanks to all who reviewed (esp. to those who went out of their way and reviewed more than once! I love you guys, I really appreciate it.)


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

She never knew that buying supplies could be so enjoyable. But then again, spending money and buying trinkets were things women were always fond of – a fact she had definitely not forgotten. Yet there was something about the bazaar in the coastal town that amazed her. Could it be the wide array of products that the merchants claim to be from all over Ivalice? Could it be attributed to the way different items from weapons to clothing to vegetables could be found displayed on colorful mats and tables above the sandy ground?

"Have you heard? Rona had a fight with her fiancé again,"

"You don't say…."

Ashe picked up the small fruit from the stall she was currently in front of and slowly felt its texture at the palm of her hands. She took her time, eyes focused wholly on the object yet it was obvious that she merely wanted to linger.

Gossiping, yet another guilty pleasure she knew women inherently posses.

"Rona says he is just too damn withdrawn but then I said, aren't they all?"

_Faram_. She sighed inwardly. Whoever said women were the more confusing sex definitely wasn't observing hard enough. Men always seem so sure of themselves, and the tiniest amount of questioning ends up looking like an act of intimidation. When provoked, they take a step back. When you are nice to them, they still take a step back. It seems that the aggressiveness they have towards their fellow men is just the result of their pent up frustrations against women.

Just last night, she almost implored Basch to at least sleep in a cot by the bed yet what did the man do? He stood by the door and said goodnight, seriously looking like he was going to sleep that way. And as if that wasn't enough, he even had to make a joke out of it. Yet his humor did not help at all. Sleeping in a cage is much more uncomfortable, he says… _as if he had experienced a chocobo's life or worse_. Just thinking about it made the hair at the back of her head rise.

"She only wanted to ask him what he wanted for their wedding and what do you know? The man says he leaves everything up to her and quickly changed the subject, preferring instead to talk about joining that fighting club of sorts the guys just set up at camp."

"Oh, I've heard of that. They seem to be very serious at it too. It's like the only thing these guys can be serious about."

"But would you believe it if I said that they claim to be having fun?"

"Thank God I'm a woman."

And yes, there was also that training group Amon and the others had set up. At first she thought it to be a good source of recreation for Basch, after all, he was_ forced_ to spend god knows how many months with her, not knowing she was a helpless cook and an even more helpless homemaker (despite her supposedly _inherent inclination_ to such _feminine_ chores). Yet seeing him go home with a light scrape – or worse, slightly torn clothing greatly annoyed her – especially since she knew she couldn't do anything about it - with her being more helpless at sewing than cooking.

And yet when she voiced out her woes and apologized for her misgivings, all he did was shrug indifferently, telling her it was fine and that she didn't have to feel guilty. Her memory wasn't intact – and she wouldn't be able to remember the particulars of such mundane chores in the first place. She was of royal blood and somehow, that alone was a license for her to remain ignorant of these things. But no amount of assurance from him would stop her from feeling uneasy whenever she let him do whatever chores she had to do – whenever he did all there is that they had to do.

Sure she lived as a princess all her life, but…. But for once, can't he allow her to be the woman that she was?

She wanted to do it. She wanted to feel it. She wanted to complete herself, if not as Ashelia, then as Amalia.

"Um… excuse me madam…" the timid vendor stuttered slightly as she tried to get her attention. The old woman probably saw the furious look in her eyes that she actually thought that she should not be provoked.

"Oh." The fruit in her hand was suddenly mangled; going from a fresh to a stale state within the span of three minutes – or at least during the duration of her deep rumination. She felt the stickiness in her hands, probably from the sap she had unconsciously squeezed out of the fruit yet it was the warmth in her ears that bothered her, "I am very sorry. I… well…"

"Uh… It's all right madam…"

"I'm sorry, I'll just get a pack of this hmm…thing. Please include this one in the pack. I shall pay for it." She grinned awkwardly, suddenly feeling the gaze of the two gossipers on her. She was already afraid of the possibility that on her next visit to the bazaar, she might be the topic at hand.

"Oh… right right. That is a good choice, if I may say so madam. Dragon fruit is a good source of vitamins. Very important for stamina, surely your husband must need a powerful meal after all the work he has been through all day…" the merchant grinned herself and quickly picked out the big fruits and placed it on the weighing scale.

"Oh yes, yes, dragon fruits are the best!" she replied, laughing nervously, making a mental note to remember what the fruit she had just crushed was called.

"Excuse me… you … you are Amalia aren't you?" the merchant asked kindly as she placed the fruits in the paper bag.

"Yes, nice to meet you. And you are?" she was actually against the idea of letting the old woman know her name, especially when the gossiping women needed it for the latest topic at hand.

"Oh, I am Norg. Fruits and vegetables are my specialty!" she laughed slightly, "It's nice to see you finally, I often see your husband around. Quite a good man isn't he?"

"Yes… very much," she grinned once more as she gave her several pieces of gil to pay for her purchase.

"I heard you purchased a sword from my daughter recently. She said you folks are a good pair."

"Oh, is that so? Well, I am flattered to say the least. I guess I have you people to thank for being so welcoming," she tried to focus on her conversation with the old woman but can't help but notice the gasped "she's Basch's wife?" from the two gossipers behind her. She didn't know if she was to be infuriated or amused by it all.

"Well anyway, I guess I'll see you again sometime… very soon I hope," she stopped for a while as if hesitating then finally added, "he's a very inquisitive fellow you know? I suppose you're lucky that your husband is interested in what goes on in the kitchen."

"Oh that silly man," she blushed, remembering the salad Basch made the night before after the soup she made turned awry. "Well anyway, thank you Norg."

At least he was not as timid around other people. She tried not to get frustrated over the thought. After all, he did it for her as they would starve if he didn't know how to prepare their food properly. Yet still it annoyed her how withdrawn he was. Was she asking for too much? Was he just being overly timid? Was it because she forced him to pretend to be her husband?

Before she knew it, she was walking straight though the new area that Amon had converted into his "training ground". Bangaas, seeqs, humes and even moogles gathered around as they watched different warriors spar with their weapon of choice. The men were standing beside each other like a barricade and she couldn't seem to get a glimpse of the inner circle. Yet once a bangaa moved away, she took her chance and went in the middle of the circle. The men seemed to be having a lot of fun, with some of them seated around as they polished their weapons, talking about technicks and enhancing magiks they have encountered. Some talked about marks while some talked about monsters they just had to run away from. In the middle of the murmurings and the sudden outbursts, she couldn't seem to spot the man she was looking for through his voice…

She looked around once more and saw him in a corner, looking attentive as he was listening to a story by an older man. Amon was beside him and he too seemed to be listening attentively. She shook her head in frustration once more as she saw how his upper sleeve had yet another cut and the vest he wore seemed mangled and falling apart.

At first she wanted to give him a piece of her mind – to let him know she was jealous…Jealous? Of what?! She stopped in her tracks as she tried to re-articulate her thoughts in her mind. She wanted to let him know that she was… annoyed. She sighed as she realized it was a more appropriate term. She was annoyed at how withdrawn he was, after all that they had been though for the past few weeks. And she was also going to let him get a piece of her mind about his blatant disregard for his own well being (or his clothing at least.)

"Basch,"

"Highness!" he gasped, visibly stiffening in his seat. He surely had not expected her authoritative voice above him… especially when he was listening to a somehow clandestine story…. About women…a story of sorts…

"Highness? That's new Basch. Now I see why you aren't getting any," the old man laughed as Amon laughed beside him as well, falling in the sand clumsily and touching his stomach in laughter.

Not getting any what? Ashe tilted her head slightly in confusion and almost nudged Basch's back with her foot.

"I… Uh… That is…" he coughed once as he noticed her wrathful glare above him, "I just wanted to say hello to …my… princess." He smiled tentatively.

"Oh hello my prince," Ashe forced a smile herself as she suddenly coiled her hand to touch the hair behind his neck. "Hello Amon, gentlemen…"

Basch visibly reddened at her touch. Whether it was indirect affection or punishment, he did not care. The result was the same. Utter awkwardness.

"Oh marital bliss, suddenly I miss my late wife," the old man laughed as he looked approvingly at the pair. "Don't worry my lady, we were just having fun… being sentimental is actually a proper term to call it."

"Sentimental, bah," Amon muttered, "That's why I'll never get married. Just look at Basch here. He can take a legendary monster on, but Amalia would always have him around her finger, isn't that right Amalia," he winked at her then, earning another round of laughter from the men.

"That is a mean way to put it Amon," she forced a frown, "my husband has his fine points. And he surely has his own mind," a mind that was impossible to read, she added to herself.

"Oh boy, stop teasing Basch, I can see he can't wait to whop your arse as soon as he can," the old man chided and the chorus of laughter started once more.

"Nay, I do not mind," Basch bent his head, a light tint forming in his cheeks. "My… wi..w…Amalia has her good points as well."

"Mushy smushy. Anyway…" Amon coughed and addressed the men, "uh… a broadsword, a broadsword," he said, glancing tentatively towards Ashe's direction.

"What broadsword,"

"What about a broadsword?"

"Remember what we had been talking about a while ago," he said slowly as if stressing the words, "you know, _the thing they will never understand_?"

"Oh the broadsword"

"Right, the broadsword,"

"What … ? I always liked the claymore better."

"What? What in blazes are you talking about?"

When he realized that the men had successfully digressed in their conversation, he stood up to talk to Ashe in private.

He noticed that she looked a bit annoyed somehow and he tried to think of reasons why. Was it too warm? Did she encounter trouble? Had he been too inattentive?

"Amalia, did I do something… or did not do something I was supposed to do…?"

She had a look that seemed to imply he was unbelievably dense, and yes he had offended her somehow. Yet he was surprised when suddenly, her frown disappeared and was instead replaced by a big bright smile.

"I went around the market today. I couldn't just stay at home and rest like what you told me to do. I also spent … a lot, I hope you don't mind."

"No, not at all, you are free to do whatever you like," seeing her smile gave him the urge to smile as well, "although I do hope that you wouldn't wander around much. I'm sorry, I should have been protecting you."

"Come on Basch, who could possibly harm me here?" she sighed, "stop being such a mother hen."

Her eyes were bright that day and her smile was even brighter. He had always been fond of her smile, though he had always refused to admit it. It was a dangerous fact to admit, and a dangerous sight to be fond of. Seeing it in his head was the most distracting thing…"So, what have you been doing?"

"Oh… not much. I have walked around and looked at the bazaar. I met Norg and bought … some… dragon fruit! That's right, See, have you ever eaten this before?"

He looked at the contents of the paper bag as she had asked in an effort to veer away his gaze from her face. Being around her was most difficult as of late yet when with her, he could not seem to move away…

"Let's have it for dinner,"

"Hey … that's my favorite fruit you know!" a familiar small voice suddenly interrupted them and sure enough, Mighty was there, standing behind them. "Amalia, you did promise us that you'll let us have a taste of your cooking."

"Oh Mighty! We didn't see you coming!" she gasped and grinned nervously, "I did promise you that however…" she was quiet for a while, thinking hard for an excuse.

"Mighty, I am afraid tonight is not a very good time…" Basch added a bit hurriedly as he realized that Ashe was having a hard time coming up with a response. Yet the quips that followed completely surprised him

"All right! Basch is going to get some!"

"Go for it Basch!"

"You snoopy moogle! Come here and leave those two alone!"

He froze for a moment as he heard the men's laughter. They were quite a rowdy bunch and it somehow reminded him of the rank and file in the army… although back then, soldiers weren't inclined to joke around in such a loose manner, what with the impending war. His experience back at those times told him that it would be best to just leave them alone.

Basch was going to get what? Ashe was still confused at what was happening yet seeing the men fooling around was like a breath of fresh air. She never imagined them to be as unruly or as outspoken as the women had been. She supposed that was the whole atmosphere of the Phon coast. It was a place where you can abandon all inhibitions and do as you please. It was a place where one can just … be.

It was hard to do just that when they had been forced to stay there and play a game of charades. Yet at the same time… she felt liberated with her life at that moment. Living that way… it was highly enjoyable.

She was surprised when she suddenly felt his hand on her elbow, leading her away. She waved awkwardly to the men as if to say to goodbye, as they waved back to her as well. Yet as she looked ahead, she suddenly noticed the two gossipers once more, with their eyes focused on her direction.

Suddenly feeling a bit impulsive and a bit mischievous, she pulled away from her companion slightly, only to wrap her arm around his so that their arms were linked as they walked. Basch didn't try to pull away, yet he didn't seem too comfortable in their position either. Nevertheless, she grinned to herself and looked up to see his expression.

She can't say it was grim, yet she could tell he was not happy either. "Come on Basch, don't look so glum."

"I… I am feeling fine, thank you." He said, still trying to get used to the closeness he felt. They had never been this close before. The nearest they had walked together was side by side… and yes, there was that time when they walked hand in hand but… not that he minded but…

"At least _pretend_ you have _your wife_ around your arm," she looked at him again, "Or at least pretend you like it. I mean it Basch."

"As you wish," he said, although neither his facial expression nor his distance from her improve, "But if I may ask… where exactly are we going again?"

"I do not know. You were the one who dragged me away after all," she said, hoping to tease. "But then again, I was hoping to bring you somewhere."

"Then I guess I am now at your disposal."

"Oh Basch, you humor me," she sighed exasperatedly at his words. There she was having fun yet he was being a stick-in-the-mud once again. "I've been meaning to talk to you about your lack of care when it comes to yourself… or your belongings for that matter."

"My belongings?" he was surprised when she started tugging on the vest he wore and put her finger inside a ripped hole in the side of his shirt.

"See, you always come home with a new tear in your clothes and I believe soon, you'd have to walk around in sheets." She suddenly stopped in front of what seemed to be a garments shop, "I do hope you'd avoid wrecking your clothes until I learn how to sew."

Until she learns how to sew? "I cannot possibly make you do repairs on my clothes!"

"We've been through this…remember?" She shook her head and frowned at him slightly, "I would learn, I promise. And I won't damage them beyond repair."

She completely missed his point. The thought horrified him yet the appeal it had on him horrified him more. Cooking was something… yet the sewing thing… was completely different. "Amalia… I don't think…"

"Let's get you a new set of clothes then, you did say I could spend a lot today didn't you?" she placed her hands on his broad back, as if measuring him with her fingers. Her hands reached up for his shoulders then went around his waist and then she stepped back and eyed him for a few seconds.

Getting new clothes was a totally different experience for him. After all, the last time he did it was back when he was in the Dalmascan order. For the past few years he had depended on Vossler and Noah's hand-me-downs for his supply of clothing.

He watched the queen as she talked to the merchant. He saw her moving her hands and asking for colors and making a selection and yet all he could do was stand around and wait. He never had a woman shop for him before. He had his flings and whatnots in the past… yet women never really went as far as picking out things for him. He heard it was a humbling experience and yet he couldn't quite paint his feelings at that moment.

He was once told that in his age, only wives did those things.

She cared for him enough to see to his welfare… to see that he was properly fed and clothed. The past few weeks had been quite an experience for him. Although she had no experience of it… any of it, she had been eager to do the simplest things for him and it reminded him of his childhood. It reminded him of Landis. It reminded him of his mother. It reminded him of a home.

And because he knew he could not go on imagining, hoping for something he could never have. He persuaded her to stop doing … trying… attempting to do these things. It distracted him. It made him forget that she was just acting her part. It made him forget that he must also act his.

"Basch, which color would you prefer. Green or Red… what about Blue?" He remained silent as she held the cloths in front of him, placing one over his chest from time to time as if testing how it would look like on him.

"Whichever you think is best," he replied, as he tried not to step away.

"Oh Basch, have you no preferences too?" she frowned slightly and gave him a threatening glare. "Just tell me what you like, is it that hard?"

"I would wear whatever it is you would find suitable…"he started and saw her glare intensify, "Although I think I would prefer the green one."

"The green one?" suddenly she was smiling again. "It's perfect. It suits you. I like it."

He watched her as she moved away, talking to the tailor about the specifications of his new apparel. The kindly man approached him, getting his measurements as Ashe stood in the corner, observing quietly. She seemed happy. And somehow he felt the warm feeling in his heart as well.

He had never experienced the so-called marital bliss, whatever that was. Marriage was something he hadn't thought about for so long. His life revolved around fighting, serving, following. Such a peaceful life was a thing of the past. He supposed she wasn't any different – after being widowed mere months after getting married. Maybe these experiences they shared were both new… and welcome. Maybe this was the closest he could get to feeling how it was to be with a loved one.

"_Who knows Basch? This chance may have happened for a reason. Maybe things would work out better than we want it to be?"_

A reason, surely he needed a reason. He needed a reason to continue playing this game with her… notwithstanding how he was fully aware that they were merely pretending… that they're doing this out of convenience, that she had forgotten their past, that she loved someone else… loves someone else… that he can never be the same character in her reality.

He needed a reason to stay with her… other than the fact that he… that he…

"Basch? Would you like anything else?" she asked innocently, completely missing the passing look of despondency in his eyes as she walked towards his direction, holding another paper bag in her hand, "look here, the merchant agreed to give me some thread and needles for free."

He shook his head, trying to clear his mind from the thought he repressed once more in his mind before he even had a chance to acknowledge it. He got the paper bags she had set aside in the sandy ground.

"Come on Basch, could you at least not look disappointed? I haven't even tried sewing yet, but you seem to be fully convinced that I won't succeed," she frowned, looking up to him defiantly, "I will learn Basch. I swear it."

"I'm sorry," he shook his head once more, "I was not thinking that way, nor did I doubt your abilities… I do know for a fact that you are very capable of doing many things…"

"Then what's wrong? Have I upset you in any way?" she placed her hand on his arm almost tentatively, her brows knotted with concern.

"No… no, of course not. I'm sorry."

"Has anyone ever told you that you apologize too much?"

He was taken aback for a second, as he noticed her glare upon him once more, "Aye… the last one who mentioned it was Vaan."

She sighed loudly, looking slightly irritated, "Well at least now you know that I most definitely agree with him." She looked up to him once more, carefully studying his face, looking at his eyes… eyes that seemed to always shift away whenever met with hers, "Stop being so guilty then," she said, sounding like she was ordering him, " Stop putting all the blame in yourself and thinking you are the only one who is utterly flawed."

He remained silent as they walked, and Ashe swore that she felt as though he were restraining himself from apologizing to her again. Maybe that was it. That was the reason why he was so withdrawn. Maybe he couldn't go past his mistakes or forget the way she had been. She may have pushed him away unconsciously… when her memories had still been intact.

"_...You… never really … preferred my company…"_

"I have my own flaws too… and I am sure I have my own misgivings," she continued, her voice much softer now and her tone more subtle, "Stop … stop staying away from me Basch. I… I want to … get closer to you."

He stopped walking abruptly although his expression was masked with calmness. Ashe stopped and looked behind her, timidly raising her eyes to meet his, hoping for once that he not look away. She got what she had hoped for, as he looked at her slowly, but surely, a rare lopsided grin forming in his face.

"Let's… Let's go home,"

His curt words seemed to hold a lot of meaning for her as she stayed by his side on their trek back to the cottage. It was as if his statement were a truce to a fight that never existed… or even a promise of some sort. She had the sudden urge to laugh victoriously.

He needed a reason to stay with her, to be with her, to continue playing this game with her.

But when everything in this world seemed so peaceful… so surprising yet so wonderfully dreamy… all the complications seemed to fade away. Staying with her just to be with her for the moment seemed to be reason enough.

"Say Basch… what were those guys talking about a while ago? What were you getting tonight?"

He was jarred away from his pleasant thoughts, suddenly feeling cold sweat in his forehead. "I beg your pardon?" Good things always had to end.

"They said you weren't getting any… then you're getting some. What is _it_?" she asked innocently, "do you need help? I would most definitely not want you to be lacking something relative to your peers."

He had to cough unconsciously at her words, feeling a bit uncomfortable because of the topic at hand, "I am all right, I assure you, _it_ is nothing."

"Come on now, you could tell me." She nudged him slightly, "I would most definitely give it to you if I could, whatever it is."

"It is nothing… I promise…"

"Basch." She said his name sternly, looking at him with questioning eyes. Then suddenly her eyes widened and she moved closer to him. "Oh I know. I think I understand it now."

She moved closer to him and he instinctively took a step back. Yet she was persistent and managed to get closer to him and he had no choice but to be pressed against the wall of the cottage.

"You're hungry aren't you? You aren't getting fed well. Oh my … this is horrible."

"Amalia … I…"

"Yes you are kind of thinner than I expected you to be…" she suddenly placed her hands on his shoulders and then over his chest, where his heart beat faster than bird's flapping wings. "I felt it earlier. Bony shoulders… You looked … healthier from afar."

He sagged against the wall, suddenly feeling drained from what had transpired within the last few minutes. Being with her led to events that were more unpredictable than weather. Yet he could not complain.

"Don't worry Basch, I asked around, I think I know how to cook this thing. Just hang on there, you'll see. I'll get better at cooking and you can eat …with less trouble."

She didn't even see the defeated look in his face as he slumped down the sandy ground as she hurriedly went inside the cottage, determined to make a feast… or something that would at least be edible.

Women were most definitely the fairer…yet more unpredictable sex. At that moment, he did not have any objections to that idea. Yet again, he could not complain. How could he? Being with her was like riding an untamed chocobo but… he could not possibly deny or even repress the thought that he was having the time of his life.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Wheee… this is the longest chapter so far. Sorry if it seems a bit disjointed, I wrote this on at least three seatings. Gyaah. I was having a super hard time making Ashe fall in love with Basch (then again, girls like me would always ask HOW COULD SHE NOT!?) so I'm sorry. I had no choice but to tweak her a little (or maybe let her become "true to herself"? hmmm…there's a little Basch lover inside any woman's heart… right? Right?)

I seriously think that Basch's clothes were hand-me-downs from Vossler. I mean, it had the same design. Belts and all. That would also explain why the top couldn't be closed… and why the apple green tassel seemed out of place. I mean, come on, he practically agreed to wear this dead guy's clothes what more hand-me-downs from his close friend? (oooh…. I smell some love… KIDDING!! Hahaha) and besides, he wouldn't have time to buy new clothes and his old clothes were probably burned down or thrown away by that time. Anyway, that's just my theory.

I would like to reiterate that I am a very very very slow writer. But depending on my mood and my professors' moods, I might have the chance to write the next chapter sooner. But I would guess it would take me a month or more to post it again. But I hope I don't/didn't disappoint you guys! I love you all. Thank you thank you for reviewing or even reading my stupid ramblings. I love you guys! And when you guys feel sucky, always think of Basch, poor Basch who had been forced to wear a dead man's armor and not even have the chance to have his own clothing (sob sob) God bless Ivalice.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"_Basch, are there seashores in Nabradia?" he heard his charge ask curiously, and he couldn't help but look back to face her. _

"_Yes, there are your highness, quite a lot in fact. The palace floats above a lake and the borders are mostly surrounded by bodies of water," he replied, watching carefully as the young princess frowned, somewhat disappointed from that piece of information._

"_So I was right," she said, shaking her head thoughtfully. "Nanny thought otherwise. Unlike you Captain Basch, she has never traveled you see…" _

_He nodded at her then, showing her he understood, yet not really knowing the relevance of the topic at hand. "What is the matter highness? You look troubled."_

_She seemed anxious, as she shifted in her seat atop her chocobo, Sunshine, clutching the reigns tighter than she usually does. "Well…"_

_The knight waited patiently for her reply, feeling a bit anxious himself just trying to figure out what could possibly bother the young princess. _

"_I __overheard__ father the other day. He had plans of sending me to Nabudis for a visit next summer. I heard him talking to Captain Azealas, making arrangements and whatnots," she said, her expression still a bit glum, "they say it's good for me to have some sort of diversion, to forget about what happened the other month…"_

_The other month… her fourth brother's death, he remembered, as his own face fell as well. "Nabudis is a fine place. I am sure the trip would be enjoyable."_

"_But you don't understand," she said as she looked up making him see her knotted brows, "for one thing, you most definitely would not be there, and that would mean I would have to stay with Captain Azealas almost all the time.…"_

"_You do know he's a nice person and he seriously cares for your safety –"_

"_- I know that…" he noted the faint blush in the girl's cheeks. "But it's kind of embarrassing." Her last words made him feel a certain sense of disbelief, considering the way she tailed after __the raven haired knight__, eagerly asking him to teach her swordsmanship, and the almost pitiful way she looked after he rejected her – that she was forced to ask him to teach her instead._

"_It is understandable. He is your official guardian after all," he said, "Surely he does not … dislike you in any way. You would get along well" _

_She groaned uncharacteristically, "But that's just it… I'll be with him and …"_

"_Do you not like him?"_

"_Of course I like him," she exclaimed, then suddenly gasped out loud and covered her mouth, "of course… I mean… I like him but not like him and I like you too… but…" she stuttered incoherently, "Never mind, it's beside the point."_

"_I apologize," he said solemnly, making a mental note on his head to avoid talking about her seemingly current object of affection. She nodded regally and he knew it was the end of that, until she spoke once more. _

"_I was talking to nanny about it the other day, and I was thinking about the possible "recreations" I would take part in there. I realized that the people there might perhaps invite me to go walking by the sea, as I remembered the terrain there to be less dry as compared to Dalmasca…"_

"_Perhaps," he said, still confused at where the conversation was going, yet not minding it nevertheless, as this was how his conversations go with the adolescent princess usually, "the seashore is nice and mild. The waters are cool and perfect for fishing and swimming."_

"_Swimming. Yes." She said with a heavy sigh. _

"_I take it as though her highness is averse to swimming?" he asked, slightly surprised._

"_No… no… I am not averse to it as you may say. However I… well…" she bent down her head once more timidly, seeming a bit unsure of how to phrase her words. "I have never gone swimming you see… Father … father never had time to spare whereas my brothers never invited me... Nor did my cousins… which was understandable. There were no beaches in Bhujerba after all…"_

_He was silent for a while, not quite sure why this fact troubled the young princess so, yet understanding her sadness for never having an opportunity to play in the sea when she was younger. Even he remembered how it was in Landis, back when he was younger. Almost all the children had memories of swimming and playing around by the sea._

"_Then perhaps your hosts wouldn't mind if you declined their invitation to go swimming, should the occasion arise. Or better yet, maybe you could take it as an opportunity to learn then?"_

"_But can't you see? That would be slightly unpleasant. Declining might seem offensive and learning then might make me look too ignorant," she said proudly, and he dared not smile, afraid he would hurt her feelings. He knew her proudness bordered that of arrogance __yet__ he also knew it was one of her virtues. _

"_The people there are surely kind. They would not mind at all."_

"_But to think a princess from Rabanastre could not swim! What would they say about my father, my brothers…and … and… I could not go dog paddling for Captain Azealas to see!"_

_He could not stop himself from grinning then, and he was glad that she was slightly in front of him that she didn't see his expression. _

"_Oh, but your highness, swimming isn't at all that hard. In fact, I think you could master it in an instant. After all, you mastered yesterday's lesson quite quickly," he encouraged._

""_Basch, you have taught me well. You are well adept in swordsmanship… perhaps you are good at swimming as well?"_

_He knew where this conversation was headed. "I cannot say I am adept. However, I would like to believe that I …" he saw her pleading eyes then, her innocent pleading eyes. Those same eyes that pressured him to say yes when she asked him to teach her how to use the sword, "Oh no… Swordsmanship is one thing, surely I could not teach you well enough to swim…"_

"_But you said I am a fast learner,"_

"_Yes, you are, highness, however –"_

_  
"Please Basch? You do understand my dilemma don't you? I cannot bear the thought of learning how to swim through a complete stranger…"_

"_Yes but –"_

"_Please Basch. I have to learn eventually. After all, you did say I have to learn how to survive, even on my own so I will not be as vulnerable when you and Vossler aren't beside me. Staying afloat at sea is important is it not?"_

"_Yes, of course it is your highness… but you have to understand that I…"_

_She pouted then, yet he could not deny the mischievous look she had on her eyes, as she prompted Sunshine to go for a full gallop, and before he knew it, he had no choice but to increase his chocobo's pace to keep up with the princess. _

_He felt the blood drain away from his face when he saw the princess heading straight for the banks of the Nebra. She was determined to lure him in as she laughed gleefully, almost like a siren inviting a seafarer to shore. Sunshine went farther than chocobos usually do and he could see that the water could be almost four feet deep. With the princess's height at that moment she would surely…_

"_Highness, don't move any further."_

"_What? What did you say" she shouted, almost looking like she were taunting him. He thought that she possibly did not realize the danger she was in._

_He quickly jumped off his chocobo, muttering at its cowardice after it refused to move further unlike Sunshine had and quickly unlatched the straps of his light armor. _

"_Basch! What are you…" she exclaimed, laughing in a way that would surely earn some admonition from her nanny, "so you are going to teach me how to swim after all!" _

"_Basch"_

"Basch?"

She looked at him curiously before taking a seat beside him by the porch of the small cottage. "I… I'm sorry, did I… bother you?"

He blinked once… twice and realized he had been staring blankly at the ocean. He glanced towards the voice's direction and saw Ashe taking a seat beside him. "No, of course not," he chuckled, "I was just… thinking."

"Oh?" she looked at him more intently then, and he could not help but stare back at the calm sea. "It must have been something pleasant."

It was his turn to look back at her curiously.

His gentle questioning eyes asked her to continue, "Your aura… is different somehow. You seem a bit, refreshed."

"I can't deny that I am refreshed. Lunch was wonderful. Thank you again."

"Oh it's nothing," she said bowing her head timidly, "and stop lying to me. It was not wonderful…"

"It was in-"

"Interesting, I know," she muttered, under her breath, but he heard it nonetheless.

"But really, it was all right. I give you my word." He said solemnly, and Ashe could not help but laugh at his testimonial. Who would've thought he could be serious even with such a trivial matter as food?

"What were you thinking about?" she asked then, changing the topic.

_Of you,_ he almost said, "just some memories."

Memories. He failed to realize he stroke a chord within her until it was too late. "I apologize… I…"

She shook her head then, "Good memories are treasures I suppose." She looked at him attentively once more, "was it a good memory then?"

"I cannot say it was good…but it was not exactly bad either," he said, his eyes having a serene expression as he looked back at the shore.

Ashe followed his gaze and stared as well. "You know what… I could not recall anything… anything at all about my experience with the sea."

He was surprised at the coincidence. He watched her melancholic eyes as she spoke, "When we first came to the Phon Coast, I was actually trying to recall… what was the sea like? Did I go play there with my peers? Did I enjoy it as common people normally do?"

Of course he had some of the answers; he partook on the occasion after all. Yet he could not deny, now that he thought about it, that he wished her first memory of the sea had been… more pleasant. He looked at her, and saw a woman quite different from the child that once played in the banks of the Nebra. She was older, and perhaps more graceful and feminine, and certainly more beautiful. She had become more like the queen that she was destined to be – but still, now that she was smiling genuinely and looking like she had no care in the world, he thought she did not change much at all.

"What do you think about… making some memories now?" he smiled that rare lopsided smile of his and she felt something tug in her heart.

"What do you mean?"

How could he deny this from her, now that he had the chance to give it to her – now that he had the chance to give something to her?

He stood up from his seat then and waited for her to stand as well. He then tilted his head slightly motioning for the shore.

"We could go? Now?" she asked, failing to hide the sudden excitement in her voice.

"It is a fine day for walking, is it not?"

"Walking," she had a meek smile, "Walking is good. I don't think I know how to swim."

He was taken aback slightly, but was amused at the thought. "You don't? Perhaps you had merely forgotten how to."

"Perhaps," she replied, frowning when nothing came to mind.

"But then, you would not think about learning how to swim from a stranger…"

She smiled a bigger smile when she caught on to what he was implying, "You're not a stranger Basch, I think teaching me would be a wonderful idea-"

"Me? I was not saying that I…"

"Oh come on Basch, you did say you would help me make some memories now…" she said, in an almost complaining manner, "I am a fast learner; surely I would not give you a headache."

"It's not that… I think it would not be a good idea if I…"

"Well then," she sighed, "I'll just ask Amon to teach me instead," she said, feigning haughtiness.

"I…"

She looked at his pale(r) complexion and his utterly confused, worried eyes and could not stop herself from laughing. She managed to let it out as a giggle instead, yet after looking at his serious expression, she thought she might have offended him.

"Oh all right Basch, you do not have to teach me if you do not want to. I know your devotion to courtesy and decorum," she said reassuringly.

He nodded thankfully as he berated himself silently for having yet another careless slip and almost getting himself into another awkward situation. This had been occurring frequently as of late, and he supposed he had no choice but be more careful. This was the thought that continued to nag his head as they walked silently by the shore.

The waves created a slow steady rhythm that was quite calming. The breeze was cool and the sun shone brightly, but was just mildly warm. Perhaps the only thing that could have bothered them was the way their hands brushed against each other more than it normally should. The timid knight took the initiative and stepped aside yet the queen unconsciously moved closer.

She wondered when he would speak, for she currently had no idea as to what to say. Was he still feeling awkward after she had teased him earlier? Was he thinking about something else? Lately she had seen that he was putting a lot of effort in accommodating her with her whims. In fact, he was starting to be friendlier. Yet he still kept his distance and she still noticed when he was on his guard. Did she intimidate him? Or did she really just make him feel uncomfortable? Just when she was about to speak, she was somehow startled when the knight suddenly bent down in front of her. She realized that he was merely removing his sandals.

"Would you like to feel the sand beneath your feet?" she heard him ask, and almost automatically, she slipped her own sandals off her feet. The knight dutifully got it and held it with his other hand. The rough texture surprised her and the feeling became even weirder when she felt the cold water suddenly creep up to her feet without her noticing it. She instinctively took a step to her side and before she knew it, she had clung to Basch's arm in an effort to keep her balance.

"Are you all right?" he asked worriedly, when he saw her startled expression.

"It's cold," she said, like a child touching the seawater for the first time. "I expected the sand to be warm…yet it's almost as cold as the seawater"

He nodded, pleased at seeing her eyes full of wonder and childlike delight, that he failed to notice her arm still latched at his. He led her closer to the water until the water touched the hem of her knee-length skirt. He stopped when the water was calf-deep and the waves almost touched her knees. He then moved slightly to let her pull her skirt to the side so as to not to get it too wet and they continued to walk by the shore.

"Basch, what are those little things over there?" she asked eagerly, and before he could even reply, she had already bent down to see for herself. "It's fish! Small fish!"

"Careful with those, some of them may bite,"

"They would?"

"Only some of them," he chuckled, "it wouldn't hurt but it might be a bit itchy later on."

"Oh … I see." She then pulled away from him to look at the water more carefully, until she realized too late that her skirt was all wet despite her efforts to keep it away from water earlier. She looked beside her and saw Basch crouched down as well, as if he were looking for something. She stood up and walked to him and he turned to face her before she even managed to be by his side.

"Look, it's a mollusk, or at least it used to be. It's just a seashell now," he gave her the perfectly shaped clamshell and she looked as if she examined it carefully.

"Oh, the insides are so smooth," she gasped, "Is this where pearls grow?"

"I do not know for sure, but yes, some mollusks produce pearls, and it would probably be inside something like that," he replied feeling slightly like a teacher to a young pupil. He realized he liked it... and decided to look for an even bigger shell just to surprise her.

They stayed there, crouched and partly kneeling in the sand for a while, with the water brushing against them gently, somehow like children enjoying an afternoon in the beach. They would straighten up victoriously from time to time, after they uncovered a treasure buried under the sand and eagerly shared it with each other.

That was until a seeq came splattering by the shore, hurling big splashes of water at them as he ran.

Basch pulled Ashe closer to him instinctively, thinking it to be some form of danger at first, until he realized that the seeq was merely running away from his bangaa friend. He faintly heard the seeq shouting taunts at bangaa lightheartedly. He listened closely, trying to figure out what they were saying.

Ashe on the other hand was slightly taken aback, as she felt the knight's arm behind her back, and her cheek against his shoulder. The splashing sounds surprised her as well, yet her mind was not clear enough to realize what had just happened. She just stayed there, slightly frozen and feeling warmth creeping up her cheeks.

"He said he was a fat bucket-head who can be outran by an overweight seeq," he said, mirth evident in his voice. Until he suddenly froze himself, as his chin bumped onto her head and he realized how close he had pulled her to himself. He let go almost too quickly and his arms fell behind him and hit the water with a loud plop.

"I…I apologize - "

"– A bucket-head?"

Both of them spoke at the same time, both obviously trying to get over what just happened. Ashe straightened up and leaned on her knees, giving Basch some space.

"Oh… what?" she asked innocently as she looked at his odd expression.

"Hey! The lady called you a bucket-head!" the seeq shouted, and both humes were unprepared when the bangaa charged at them, full force, seawater splish and splashing until Ashe had no choice but to duck…

…And fall straight into Basch's arms as he lay rigidly in the sand.

"Ha! Lovebirds! Get up there and catch us if you can!"

Ashe saw his astonished gray eyes for a second and quickly stood up, seeming to recover from what just happened faster than he had.

He in turn stayed dazed for a few more seconds, feeling the salt water touching his ears until his limbs forgot how she felt like in his arms.

"Amalia," he called, as he got up, only to realize that she was several meters away from him, obviously entangled in a game of tag initiated by the bangaa and the seeq.

"Basch! Save me!" she shouted playfully as she ran from her pursuer, laughing all the while. He caught up with her and joined the chase as well, as they ran around not knowing who was pursuing who anymore. Soon the she thought of another game, and she tried to drench the three men with salt water.

Soon, more people saw them playing around like crazed children and instead of poking fun at them, they decided to join their game. Everyone, from notorious hunters to meek passersby hoping to get a quick rest, started getting their feet wet and having fun.

Without really thinking about it, Ashe ran towards Basch when everyone was preoccupied with everything else. He saw her, with her glistening hair and sun-kissed face, and also without thinking, opened his arms and welcomed her. She stopped to catch her breath as she looked at him, her eyes still dancing with joy, leaning on his strong frame. He smiled back at her as he patted her back, somehow helping her calm her speeding heart.

"Who won?" he asked, not really knowing what the game was in the first place.

"I don't know. But it's definitely not you," she managed to say, as she nudged his shoulder playfully, "you… you… cactuar!"

"Cactuar?" he asked, a bit baffled by her statement.

"Yes, you run like this," she teased, poorly imitating (and mostly exaggerating) the way he ran with his back ramrod straight.

He threw his head back and laughed out loud then, seemingly robbed off all his inhibitions at that moment.

She laughed hard as well, shocked as she never imagined it possible to share such a moment with the quiet knight.

"I got used to it… It was always hard to run with heavy armor…" he stated after he regained his composure, as if to defend himself.

"I was merely joking," she said as she pulled him slightly so he could start walking with her once more.

"I know," he chuckled as he followed her lead.

"That was fun." She sighed as she finally got to look at the horizon and realized the sun was setting already. "I guess we really acted like children back there, did we not?"

"I suppose so," he said, suddenly quite embarrassed for losing himself like that. Yet never in his life did he see her so joyful and vibrant before. It was like, in those moments they spent together, she was more like a normal girl than his liege. He had acted more like a man… actually, more like a boy than a knight as well.

"So, I guess, that's how it was when children and their families spent their time at the beach," she said thoughtfully, feeling a sense of contentment in her heart. "I think… it really is an experience worth remembering."

He felt calmness in his heart then, somehow feeling as though he had given her something special. "yes, I suppose so."

The two of them took a seat and sat there for a while, watching, just content at being beside each other at that moment. The sun set and soon the whole coast was enveloped in darkness. After a while the stars started to appear and twinkled in the sky.

Sounds of activity could be heard nearby and silhouettes of orange light could be seen. The bonfire was in place and the hunters have all gathered around, sharing stories, and roasting some edible game. Still, the two stayed there by the shore, both not saying anything.

Basch looked to his side and saw the princess resting her head atop her folded knees. Her hair was framing her face and he did not get to see the expression she had.

"Are you feeling cold?" he asked, as he noticed how she hugged herself. He touched his overcoat to see if it was dry, and realized it was damp so he decided not to give it to her anymore. "I could get some towels."

"No, please don't bother. Just stay here with me for a while," she looked up to face him and sure enough, her smile was still there yet she was much calmer than she was earlier, almost looking like she was tired.

Idly, she took a seashell in her hand and clasped it tightly to her chest, as if in a prayer. "I am afraid, Basch…"

"Of what?" he asked concernedly, as he moved closer hoping to comfort her for whatever was troubling her.

"I am afraid… you and I, and this place, my memories of this place… what if it disappears as well just as my old memories had?" she asked, suddenly sounding more vulnerable than ever, "What if… I forget? I do not want to forget."

He had an urge to brush away her hair from her face, to tuck her in his arms and keep her safe. "This moment may pass, but it would not disappear. What's done is done. Nothing can change it."

"But what if I forget? What if the memory leaves me? How would I remember that such a moment existed?" Her eyes were troubled, her voice was almost pleading. It somehow pained him. He could not bear the littlest of her anguish.

"I would remember," he said solemnly, reassuring her. After all, how could he possibly forget?

"But what if you forget? What if you fail to remind me?"

He looked back at the calm waves of the now dark sea, as it reflected the pale light of the moon. Perhaps it would be hard to explain to her, to assure her that nothing would go wrong, that this dream would not disappear for it was real.

He suddenly found himself reaching for his pockets and unexpectedly seeing objects he had picked up earlier.

"There is another thing we used to do in Landis, whenever we went to the seashore," he started as he took out the objects and let the faint light reflect on it.

"Empty bottles?" she asked, not quite aware of what he was planning to do.

"They say that when morning turns to night by the seaside, the stars rise up yet some dust falls down from the sky for it is found at the edge of the earth"

"Stardust?" she asked, her interest suddenly captured by his story.

"Aye, stardust." He gave her a bottle and kept one for himself. "It was said that if two people put sand in bottles and gather the stardust at the same time, someday, somehow, destiny would bring them back to this place, together."

"Oh… I see…"she said, as she clutched the bottle. "But what if it indeed works and we see each other. What good will it do if one of us forgets? What if we both forget?"

He sighed, a bit disappointed for her doubtfulness, yet more disappointed at himself for having such a hard time trying to put her at ease.

"That is just a part of the story. You see, stardust is said to have been from the gods. In fact, it is part of the twelve gods that rule us all," he uncapped the bottle and checked if its insides were dry as he recalled how the legend goes, "stardust brings about good luck to those who hold it. And when the time comes, when the two people who gathered stardust together meet once more, they could wish for the one thing they truly want, and it would be given to them."

"Then let's make a promise. Let's promise to indeed go back here, and wish that we never forget what happened today." The joy was back in her voice, as she was evidently given some new hope by Basch.

"As you wish," he said, smiling as he pushed in some sand in the small battle.

After which they closed the lids at the same time, almost as if they were sealing their promise to each other.

"Thank you for today Basch, I really had fun," she grinned, "although you refused to teach me how to swim."

"Maybe… maybe some other time," he mumbled, still not knowing how to tell her that he indeed did so already in the past.

"Very well then –"

"Hey lovebirds! Come here and join us for dinner!" they suddenly heard Mighty calling out, "Amon says you nearly wiped out all the hunters. They're all so very hungry … like Behemoths!"

"All right Mighty, we'll be there in a while," Ashe called as she tucked the bottle safely inside her skirt pocket.

"I guess we better go," Basch said, as he stood up from his seat.

"You almost look relieved there. Is it because you were saved from my cooking tonight?" the queen teased as the knight pulled her back to her feet.

"I did not mean it that way at a-"

He was taken aback when he suddenly felt a butterfly-light kiss on his cheek… and he failed to realize that it was over just as soon as it occurred. He didn't even get to see Ashe's playful expression as she sprinted off towards the bonfire. He merely stayed there and touched his cheek where her lips had been albeit fleetingly. And suddenly, he felt like he was not going to be able to eat anything any time soon.

"I promise not to forget…" he mumbled just when he understood what she had just done.

She took the necessary precautions and placed a guarantee so now surely, no matter what happens, he wouldn't ever forget.

"Good memories are treasures…" he mumbled once more to himself as he wondered on which coffer he should place this one, to keep it safe, to keep it above everything else.

Perhaps this one is going straight to his heart.

* * *

Author's Notes;

Gwaaaaah. Sorry guys, I've been dead for a while. Busy busy. But I have been reading very good Basche fics lately, and I must admit that it pushed me back on track. I implore you guys to read on those other fics and review review review for they are all great.

I have to apologize for making Ashe and Basch quite OOC(er) in this chapter. You see, I was having a hard time (Screaming at them as I played FF12 – FALL IN LOVE WITH EACH OTHER ALREADY DAMN IT!). I thought, I had to wield my creative license powers to give them a huge PUSH or my fic might reach 20 chapters and they're still not in love. But I promise to keep them in character in the later chapters.

I must credit Valentine's Ninja for the teeny-tiny kiss. You requested for it, so here it is. I hope the others enjoyed it as well.

I must also thank all those who reviewed. I'm sorry, for I don't know the exact protocol or whatever when someone reviews. If I don't reply to you, please don't think that I'm being haughty or anything, it's just that I'm a bit shy and I don't know what to say. But anyway, I just want to thank you all for your support. And mwah mwah mwah. Your reviews/suggestions/criticisms help a lot.

Since we've skipped the names thing for quite a while, I'm leaving you with a name meaning for this chapter. I guess I'd go with Penelo. Penelo is very similar to Penelope, no? The wife of Odysseus. Penelope was quite a patient wife, waiting for her extremely adventurous husband to return even though many suitors pursued her. Very much like Penelo I think, who stayed loyal to Vaan and had that sort of innocent "love" for him…. But then again, there's also Larsa…..then there's also the Greek word "Pene" which means "hanging" or latin "Paene" which means almost. So it's like almost a lady like Ashe, but not quite? Or hanging and waiting for the fleeting Vaan? Hmmm… peneloists (like feminists,hehe) might hate me for this, but that's my take on her name. haha.

Anyway, this author's note is extremely long now. So, see you all next time! Please review if you could.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

"_Captain Basch is no more,"_

She saw the man as his mouth moved and his voice uttered the words solemnly. He was surrounded by darkness and it was hard to see anything else.

"_He was executed in the early morn. Heard he was given a death fit for a traitor. Surely… surely now he burns in hell."_

No… no… the man kept on talking, and she could see the smug look on his face.

"_He is dead now, you need not worry…"_

There were more voices... shadows coming out from the darkness. They moved slowly and conversed with one another until a buzzing kind of noise was in the air.

"_Did he suffer?"_

She heard it, this time an all too familiar voice. It was so familiar that it stood out from the other sounds. The voice was cold… and almost frightening.

"_Perhaps"_

The man replied. People seemed to rejoice in a very odd manner. They laughed in low, controlled tones. To her, it seemed almost maniacal.

_"I heard that his executioners were Rabanastrans. Their sentiments and their own loyalty to their king may have pushed them to do more damage than necessary before his last breath."_

"_How was he executed? Would you happen to know?"_

"_I'd rather not tell you… it is quite upsetting…"_

"_All I feel for him now is resentment."_

She heard the voice once more. Cold. Vengeful. Yet somehow so lonely… so very lonely.

"_He was sentenced to a death by beating. The other methods seemed too quick and painless."_

Then the darkness faded and new sets of images suddenly flashed in her mind… an all too familiar man… who was usually kind and gentle… now seemed so meek… with his eyes downcast, his hands bound. There was a wound in his temple, a deep gash, bleeding heavily. The men came, Bangaas, Seeqs, Humes. They had weapons… maces, swords, dirks. Someone held him from behind yet it was clearly seen that he had no intentions of resisting. They pummeled him, beat him, over and over until his knees gave out. His arm fell limply on one side, and one eye started to swell. The bleeding on his head got worse with more wounds and bruises. He was breathing heavily… he cried out in pain from time to time, but mostly he was quiet, and all that was heard was the swishing of the weapons as it pierced his skin and bones. At last the men had enough and they threw him aside… no longer a man but a mere corpse. He lay there, hands still bound, no longer breathing. His eyes were closed, never to open again. She felt wrenching pain in her heart. She could not take it… could not…

"_That's well and good. I am almost glad he's dead."_

She heard it again… that voice…

That face… that wounded face… he was dead…he was dead…

"Basch!" she cried, as she was suddenly jolted awake, cold sweat trickling down her head… she heard the voice once more… that familiar voice… was no other than hers!

How could she have been so wicked? So happy… so happy at the news of his … death…?

Her heart was beating fast, too fast, and she couldn't help but hug herself out of fear and sadness… Basch… Basch… she bent her head and the tears flowed down like waterfalls. Basch… how could she…

He's dead… he's dead…

And suddenly she felt strong arms around her, pushing her head closer to his chest and there she cried until her shoulders were shaking and breathing became difficult.

"It was a dream, it's all a dream," he murmured, and she heard it. There was nothing more comforting than hearing his kind voice in the middle of her despair, "It's all right; I am here."

"I saw you … you lying there… dead! They beat you until you were lifeless…" she managed to say, her voice muffled as she continued to rest her aching head in his strong chest. "They said you were executed… they beat you to death…"

"Shh… it's all right," he murmured once again, his voice deep yet gentle. He started stroking her back as he held her closer, his cheek touching her temple. "It was a bad dream…"

He was right… it was all a dream. She closed her eyes and felt his warmth. His arms were so comforting… she felt so safe… Not even nightmares could haunt her now. It was all a dream… all a dream…

And soon breathing became easier and her head was not as painful as before. Yet her eyes remained closed, probably due to the tiredness she felt… and the pain all over her body. She was tired. So damn tired… she did not even bother thinking why she was so tired in the first place. She just drifted… and indulged in the comfort…

She felt gentle hands wiping away her tears as her head hit the pillow. She nuzzled it and enjoyed its softness. Before she could even miss the warmth she felt in his arms, she felt warmth once more as she felt a blanket getting pulled up… as it covered her from neck to toe. It was just so comforting… so comforting…

And before she knew it, it was morning once more. She opened her eyes and saw the sunlight coming through the window. She blinked once… twice… not quite sure of what was happening. Was it all a dream? In the middle of the darkness that had passed, Basch held her close. Was it a dream? Was it a…

She moved her head to the side and felt something slip off her forehead. She reached up and got it and realized it was a… damp cloth? She sat up on the bed, the blanket falling down to her knees, as she touched her head. What happened? She could not seem to remember. She looked to her side to get some sort of clue. There was a basin and some vials… she looked further and…

…saw him there. He sat quietly in a chair by her bed. His eyes were closed and his head was drooping to one side. His blonde hair suddenly looked longer, tousled as it was. She saw some locks springing up from his normally slicked hair. His chin looked a bit rougher, as unshaved whiskers were starting to grow there. Somehow he looked unkempt… yet… quite charming. She moved in her bed and sat on the edge until she was directly beside his slouched form. She reached up for his hair, unable to resist the temptation… and stroked it, quite tentatively at first, yet when he did not stir, she brushed the stray locks away from his face and watched him as he slept. Surprisingly, his hair was soft as she had imagined, although it seemed to be all over the place at the moment. She continued to stroke his hair, comforted by the mere act.

Comfort.

It was something she felt not too long ago. Could it have been a mere figment of her imagination? But it felt so real… the way he held her tightly, the way he murmured to her ears, the way he stroked her back. It was so real. She wanted it to be real.

Yet the thoughts that were before that seemed real as well. Could it have been a part of her past? Was it something she had forgotten?

It was impossible. Simply impossible.

The man before her now was an honorable man. Surely, he is _not capable_ of doing an act so grave that _people would hate him_. Surely, she could not find it in _her heart_ to hate him. That was unreal… surely it was.

Before she started to feel cold from the thought, she looked around her once more. She looked at the vials beside the basin and read the labels. The bottles contained medicines. Was she sick?

It was all starting to make sense now. She looked at the sleeping knight. She tried to remember what happened the other night. She had a wonderful time by the beach… and then there was a bonfire… hunters gathered around, singing, laughing. The food was delicious. People were teasing her and Basch as well. The warmth from the fire was soothing that she could not resist leaning her head on his shoulder as she heard the joyful singing in the background. He stayed still, as if he did not mind her leaning on him. And so she stayed there… until she was got drowsy and … that was it. That was all she remembered.

She must have been sick and Basch had been watching over her as she slept. That was probably it… It was the reason for her tiredness… her nightmares.

She looked at him as he breathed slowly, evenly. Poor sweet Basch, he must have been so worried about her. He loomed over her bed like a sentinel and she suddenly smiled at the thought. He must have been worried enough to stay close to her – when he always seemed like he always had the urge to avoid her. But then again… she noticed how uncomfortable he looked that she suddenly felt guilt in her heart.

She reached up for his face once more. Not really knowing why. She traced the scar across his forehead and felt something ache in her heart. Could it have been there for a long time? Images of him bleeding in front of her entered her mind again and she gasped, feeling the sharp pain in her chest. She withdrew her hand and shook her head. No, she must not think of those things, she told herself, it was all a bad dream. Surely it was not real… it was not real.

To keep her mind off the images, she wondered how he looked like without the scar. Could she have possibly known and just forgotten?

It did not matter. The flaw was oddly endearing. She never realized how vulnerable he could be. Her knight seemed so strong and invincible, but he was also human. His scar was just a proof that he could be hurt too… and somehow, he needed comforting just as she did.

Would he like it if she moved closer to him, envelop him in her embrace should he need the comfort? The thought seemed so preposterous that she had to shake it off her head.

Was she… starting to like him?

It would not be surprising, after all, he is not a man who is hard to like. He was strong yet gentle … and he always thought of her welfare and his duty… and …

His duty.

Maybe she was starting to be too comfortable as Amalia. She was still Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca after all. She was still queen. How could she have forgotten? She had more things to think about, more responsibilities, more duties and … surely she cannot think about something so trivial such as … love!

Love? Love was out of the question! Surely what she was feeling was not love… surely it must not be… yet whatever it was, it was so comforting and liberating and so wonderfully pleasant… if she could only stay as Amalia forever…

"Amalia!" he rasped, his voice still hoarse with sleep. She was suddenly jarred away from her thoughts as she looked at him as he was suddenly alert and awake.

She was surprised when she felt his hand over her forehead, as if checking her temperature and she had no choice but to stay still and look up innocently at him for the verdict.

"You are not as warm as you were last night… but you still look flushed. Perhaps you need more rest." He mumbled as he stood up in an almost fidgety way, reaching for the different vials and looking for the right remedy.

Poor sweet Basch, she thought, as she saw how the man seemed paler than he usually was. He must have truly been worried about her. If only he knew that the tint in her cheeks was caused by another reason altogether…

"I'm feeling fine," she said as she placed her hand over his arm, "I am not quite sure of what happened but thank you, you seem to have taken very good care of me."

He looked away from her, looking quite timid as usual, "You fell asleep last night, and before I knew it, you were burning up with a fever. I am so sorry. You must have been chilled from the cold night and the damp clothes you wore… I … should have…"

"It's all right,"

"But I…"

She shook her head, never taking her gaze away from him. "It was not your fault." She stood up, suddenly having the urge to embrace him. Yet she controlled herself, thinking about how distressed he already seemed to be to begin with and just settled with placing her hand on his shoulder and saying, "Thank you."

Her touch was starting to be something he longed for. It was getting harder to find the strength to move away from her, to resist her touch, to remember his place, to remember that this was all a game. It was unfair for her, and it was harder for him to remember that now. She was not her old self and he had no right to indulge in the feelings she showed him.

She can't even remember the anger in her heart … the loathing, the sadness he had been always part of. He had been there on her husband's death… his brother was the cause of his father's death… he was somehow to blame for her guardian's death …the pain he had caused her, albeit indirectly, she could not remember it… she could not even remember his presence and participation in those dark memories of hers – the reason why she was probably so distant when her memory was still intact. He used to remind her of her sadness … but now…

Could she have possibly felt it? Could she have known about the feeling he had repressed and suppressed for so long?

"Today… is my turn to make breakfast," he almost stuttered as he spoke, still a bit shaken from his thoughts. Her hand slipped off his shoulder and she smiled a sweet smile at him and soon she lied down in the bed once more.

"If you say so Basch, but I'm not hungry yet. Why don't you rest for a while?"

"As you wish," he replied, as he watched her. Her back was to him and he failed to see her close her eyes.

He was starting to be comfortable… so damn comfortable in this lie. He had to get away.

He opened the door quietly and stepped outside. He walked back and forth the porch until finally, he heard the sounds of the sea and he found the courage to stop and sit down for a while.

It was only a game of charades. Soon she would remember everything and all of it would be gone – this illusion, this freedom, this lifestyle.

It was all a lie.

But surely his heart could not lie? Could it?

He looked back and saw the remnants of the bonfire. The sticks were burnt and were dark in contrast to the white sand. Yet he remembered the colors of the previous night quite clearly, for the colors were quite different from the ones he saw now. It was the sky that was dark and the fire was bright.

He saw that corner where he sat, beside her, with her head on his shoulder. It was then that he was asked.

"_So what is your story?"_ it was Amon who uttered the words, _"How did you come together?"_

He had fabricated the story… and he never knew he was capable of such atrocity. Such a story about a simple man and a simple woman… their supposed past and circumstance, it was all too good to be true. Perhaps he had always envisioned it in his mind … perhaps it truly were some fantasy of sorts.

"_How did you know that you loved her?"_

The question continued to nag his head. Eyes were focused on him, friends and strangers alike. It was as if the comfortable circle had some sort of spell … that even the darkest innermost corner of his heart was suddenly open for probing… and its contents were suddenly too easy to divulge.

How did he know that he loved her? How did he …

"_My life seemed so dull and pointless. I lost everything," _he started, trying to recreate the feeling in his mind,_ "I saw her joy, her innocence, her strength. I saw how it was to live again."_

That was how it was, when she was but a mere girl, and he was a boy trying to be a man. In the middle of all her games and whims and laughter… he was there to see it all. She was there to lift his hopes up and he started to believe…

"_I had nothing yet she seemed to not care. She breathed life into me… and I was no longer an empty cast of my old self. I wanted to live again, if not for myself, __then__ for her."_

How wonderful it was to go on living. He would gladly offer his every waking moment to her service. He wanted to bring her joy, to keep her safe, to make her live life to the fullest. It was only sensible as she practically owned this new life in the first place – after she had nurtured it and cared for it, from when it was like a sapling until it grew to a fine tree, a tree that would thrive and give her shade for as long as it lives.

"_It seems impossible for me now to live without her. I would bear it all… pain, shame, loneliness, everything, just for her." _

He loved her. He loved her. Damn it all. He loved her.

He tried to stop it… to no avail. It was just there. To stop it would mean to stop himself from living for the feeling was already an intrinsic part of him. It was too powerful, too stubborn; it simply would not go away. It superseded his pride, his honor, his will to live, everything. It was pointless to deny it.

Yet he knew of the pain it would cause him. He was already feeling it, now when she was so close to him – when everything seemed perfect in this world they had created. He knew it was a trap he would never escape from… he knew it from the start. But it was perhaps the inevitable, and the feeling would come out, shouting from his heart anyway. But that's the only place where it will stay. For he already vowed… the moment he died and took his brother's place. The life he lived was no longer his – no longer hers.

It was better this way, for his love was doomed from the start. He was only thankful for the strength it gave him, for the life it breathed into him.

He only wished he could put this borrowed life to full use, for her, for her kingdom, for those people she held dear.

He only wished he had enough strength to resist it … to resist her without hurting her. He wished for forbearance, and for a firm resolve.

And most of all he wished for her happiness.

If the gods were only as kind as people wanted them to be, he wanted to wish for a few more days… just a few more days to live this dream. He was still unprepared to face the reality. He cursed himself over and over for his fickleness. Yet if he could only have this one chance… Just a few more days … to serve her, to be with her.

To let her feel his love for her.

He could die a happy man. He would be glad to live as an empty shell once more – thinking he had something he held dear – something that would make him look forward to each night… each dreaming moment, when he could be himself.

"_That's how I knew that I loved her…."_

I love her…he muttered in his mind, almost grudgingly, yet feeling the tenderness in his heart. He said the words over and over, thinking it was the only venue in which he can shout it out loud.

_I love you Ashelia_

* * *

Author's Notes: It seems like it's going to go downhill from here. Oh man. I dislike writing sad chapters. But forgive me, I've been reading some stuff lately, both fics and books alike. I think it dragged my mood and yeah. And there's also that vaccine my doctor gave me… I feel sick… BUT ANYWAY….

Thank you thank you thank you to all those who have read the fic and especially those who reviewed. Thanks a lot!! I really appreciate it. I hope you stay around for the climax. I hope I can pull it off. Please wish me luck!

For the names section of the fic. You know what, I've noticed that Basch and Noah somehow complement each other. See, Basch could mean "to Strike" from "basca" whereas Noah could mean "rest/comfort" as seen from Noah from Noah's ark. So it's like, Basch is for offense, whereas Noah is for defense. Hmmmm…. Whacha guys think?

Anyway, see you guys next chapter! And I seriously hope I manage to do it soon!


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The weather was calm as it usually was in the Phon coast and the cool breeze was soothing. Ashe tugged on the makeshift scarf she had around her neck to feel the breeze even more, only to realize how tight it had been. She merely stood dazedly as the knight wrapped it around her earlier… when he said he could not have her catching a cold. She wanted to laugh at him then for acting like worried mother, yet she saw the effort, and his serious concern for her that she did not dare laugh to avoid hurting his feelings. She merely stood there and allowed him do the task.

He still seemed shaken till that morning, and she supposed she should avoid getting sick again. Surely he was a huge, almost seemingly invincible man, yet when it came right down to it, he was undeniably soft to the core. At least he seemed to be … for her. Somehow that thought made her heart swell.

"Amalia, are you even listening?" she heard a man's voice beside her that she was suddenly pulled away from her thoughts.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" she looked at her current companion, Key, or at least that was how he was called in the coast, after he fell down from Bhujerba and lost all his memories – all except his memory of a key. She had been talking to him a lot recently, hoping to get her memories back, yet later on, she realized she had been doing so to pass time, and not really for her memories' sake. Perhaps she did not want to remember…

"Ack. Don't bother. Amon was right. You truly act like a newlywed. I can see that tint in your cheeks. You're thinking about Basch again aren't you?" he muttered, feigning annoyance when he it was obvious that he was merely teasing her.

"Well, we are newlyweds, sort of," she grinned, remembering how baffled Basch was when she told him of their supposed arrangements. She was not used to it too at first, yet now that everyone seemed to be fond of teasing them for their supposed newfound love, it came almost naturally. Perhaps it was because it was partly true…?

"Tss… Love," he sighed, as he leaned back on the boulder and looked up the sky. "You know what, despite losing all my memories, I feel like can somehow relate. I can feel something in my heart. But there is no face… no voice… just a feeling of tenderness. That's why, I know I have to go back to Bhujerba."

She was suddenly struck by what he said. Feelings could not be forgotten? Perhaps he was right, that was, if the feeling he held on to was too strong and too great before he lost his memory. Perhaps if it truly were something he did not want to forget then his heart would remember. Yet she started to think back as she gazed at the ring on her finger. Her supposed husband, her true husband – she still could not remember him. Nor could she remember any feelings she had for him. There was nothing. Absolutely nothing.

"She's waiting for you there, I think she is." She said, hoping to comfort the man, "If the feeling was so great that your heart remembered it, perhaps she remembered it as well."

"Maybe. I just hope she waits long enough until I get enough gil to go back. I hope she waits for me." He said as he threw a rock towards the sand. "But you know what, I'm starting to remember some things. A house… no, more like a store… and a woman… waiting for …me?"

"You remember?" she asked, suddenly quite interested. "How did you? Did it just come back?'

"Yeah. I suppose. I mean, whenever I sleep, I remember something vague. And whenever I wake up, I think of it once again, and I realize that as more nights and dreams come by, things start to make more sense."

Dreams. Her dreams have not been good as of late. Perhaps she refused to remember in the first place? Could her memories have been all that bad that she had purposely tried to avoid remembering them? Or perhaps it was because of how she currently lived at present… perhaps she was more than content.

"But I suppose there really are things that cannot be forgotten. Like that blasted key. I should not have given it away to that excited young lad. It might have given me more clues… oh well. I suppose when I see something that really matters, I'll remember."

"You're right Key," she said, touching the man's shoulder for comfort, "You'll remember soon." She felt sorry for the man; after all, they had the same plight.

"Thanks Amalia." He said, smiling a little, "Oh well, I guess I'd better head out now. I'm tagging along with Amon today. Hope we have a good hunt."

"Thank you Key," she replied as she stood up and watched him walk away. After a few moments, she turned around, sighed, and looked towards the calm sea.

Basch was making his way uphill when he saw the passing look of sadness in her eyes. She stood there, almost regally in the small sandy knoll, seeming to look far away yet it was clear that she was thinking of something else. Perhaps she was thinking of all that she had lost? If only he could comfort her somehow…

She looked towards his direction then and saw him, and her face brightened up in an instant. She smiled, a subtle smile at first, a smile that was fit for a queen. Yet her smile widened and once more he saw that smile he always wanted to see.

"Basch!" she called, as she waved her hands gaily. It was his cue to pick up his pace and get closer to her.

Yet he was completely unprepared for what happened mere seconds later. Two figures were suddenly behind her and she turned abruptly to face them.

He ran as fast as he could as he saw one man push his hood aside … only to reveal… a familiar face….

She looked frozen from where she stood at first, until the man seemed to unfold before her. First gone was the hood, next was the apparently fake mustache he had on his face, then further he removed the odd headpiece he had on his hair.

Familiar brown locks were seen, and soon, his face broke into a smile, quite a handsome smile, fit for a leading man…

"Balthier!" she shouted and practically leapt up to his neck and held him in a tight embrace. She clung to him almost like a lost child that suddenly found guidance that it was too heartwarming… too…

Painful … that he suddenly felt his world crumbling down before him. It seemed odd to see her in someone else's arms… in fact, it was unthinkable for him to see her in any person's arms. She held on to him tightly, warmly and he could almost imagine that huge smile in her face, and the possible tears of joy that had been trickling down her cheeks.

"I suppose the queen truly is as sick as they claimed her to be," the brunette mumbled almost jokingly and returned her hug.

"Nice to see you are well, Basch," the other cloaked figure spoke, and the knight barely heard it as he tried to numb his senses at that particular moment. "Oh please Balthier, you cannot always take advantage of a woman's vulnerability."

"Forgive me, Fran. I pray day and night to repent for my god-awful charm." He grinned, hoping to put humor in the situation after he heard Ashe sniffling in his arms.

"Basch was right, you didn't die, you didn't die." She managed to say in between breaths, "forgive me, I've not been myself as of late. I… I was just happy to see you that's all. I … shouldn't have pounced on you like that…"

"Pounced?" the handsome man's brow was slightly raised out of surprise and when the Viera poked him on the rib, he stopped himself from making any further comments.

Basch remained as still as he could be. Not really knowing what to do or what to say. He merely kept his mouth shut and tried his best to calm himself down.

"Hello majesty, I'm glad to see you've remembered some things," Fran said as she pulled down her cloak to reveal her usual features, minus the black armor she always wore. When she noticed Ashe's confused look, she added, "Perhaps I'm not one of those things… unfortunately."

"I'm sorry… Fran" she whispered remembering how Balthier addressed her earlier. "I believe… Pe… Penelo told me about you."

"I could not blame you Ashe; after all, it's always harder to forget about the leading man." Balthier said as he replaced the fake mustache and the headpiece. "Which is why I've decided to alter the way I look…"

"So the hunters would not recognize your face despite the posters found everywhere?" Fran drawled out once again, seeming to enjoy teasing her partner. Ashe laughed at it and the Viera was glad to see her so cheery albeit uncharacteristically. She also seemed to be glowing. Perhaps the knight had been a good nanny after all…

The Viera looked further to where Basch stood, part of the reunion yet seeming so far away. He must have been shocked from Ashe's outburst a while ago… perhaps the feeling she saw not too long ago was actually starting to blossom.

"Nice to see you too Basch, old chap," Balthier said, punching the man playfully on his arm. "New haircut suits you. It seems you look better with it than your brother." He idly touched his own head, noting faintly how similar their coiffures were.

He tried to think hard… think of anything… anything other than what just happened, "He was always the more …fashionable one between us… However, you have to thank an Archadian barber's capable hands for that. Lord Larsa recommended him. I heard his regular customers include lost judges and polished skypirates."

"Oh? And to think you gained a sense of humor as well?"

Ashe grinned at the exchange between the two. Balthier was the same as always, and she was almost surprised to realize that she had remembered some parts of him. Perhaps he truly was important to her? Or maybe he really just leaves a lasting impression. Basch somehow seemed to be fond of him as well…

"Seems you've been doing well, Ashelia," Fran said kindly, as she placed her arm over her shoulders, "I am glad that your spirit was not affected."

"Thank you Fran," she said, almost sorry she could not remember much about her. She could see that she was kind and they may have shared some time together, but currently her mind was blank, "I am quite happy here, as Amalia."

"Amalia?" Balthier asked, suddenly remembering the familiar guise.

"Yes, just a simple girl from Rabanastre."

Balthier chuckled, thinking there was nothing simple about her. "I want to know more about this… Amalia," he said, as he went closer to her once more until he stood by her side.

"I suppose you do, but perhaps we could discuss it more in our cottage?" Ashe offered as she saw that other hunters were starting to look their way.

"All right then, please do lead the way," the skypirate said gallantly as he placed her arm around his, just like how a gentleman does in the streets of Archadia.

Fran shook her head as she saw her partner, thinking he truly was the shameless flirt that he was. Who would have thought he would take advantage even of the Ashe's current situation? She guessed she should let him have his way for now… sooner or later, he may not have the same chance again. As she was chuckling, she again noticed the odd aura emanating from the knight beside her.

He was tensed up, seeming to be agitated as he walked awkwardly behind the two. She was about to talk to him when he suddenly spoke.

"There's something else you need to know Balthier," the knight started, his voice deep as usual yet now somehow a bit tempered.

"Oh? And what is that?" he asked, laughter in his voice as he looked behind him to see the other man's scowl.

"Here… Amalia is my wife."

* * *

Halim Ondore never once thought that his credibility was his most valuable asset. He was born into a family of aristocrats and statesmen, and surely the people distrusted them at some level. Yet after the successful campaign he had over four years ago, when he spread the word on the death of a young princess and the execution of a disloyal knight, he did not think that he would have to make false statements to the public ever again… and actually get away with it.

The young emperor was responsible for this scheme this time around, and since the previous month, he felt somehow like a stealthy accomplice once more. It was even more humiliating this time, as a younger brother of his previous rival was the one who had asked him to do it, but then again he supposed it was not as bad. The circumstances were different this time. Now he had to lie to save lives, unlike before when he had to lie to encourage more deceit. In fact, he was glad that this time, his misleading propaganda truly was for the good of Ivalice. And of course, it was not at all proper to compare Vayne to the young Larsa. Larsa was wise, and perhaps as good in scheming as his brother had been yet he used his ideas for the common good and not just for power's sake. Truly he was a ruler his ancestors can be proud of – he might be the one to redeem their family's honor.

The half of the first lie he made was now righted as Queen Ashelia was now very much alive and very much adored in all of Ivalice for her grand feats; he could only wish for the same for the other lie he made – the one about Captain Basch Fon Ronsenberg, the lie that let him keep his own life. He supposed that was another reason why the story he fabricated now was not as hard to do as the previous one – as he was not under duress this time around when he said it. In fact, it seemed like a twisted kind of goodwill, to keep the people calm and peaceful.

He only wished that the lies he said the previous month would not cause too much harm for he knew that a lie was still a lie and the end does not always justify the means. However, what he said recently was not entirely incorrect this time around. He merely tried to buy the queen some time to recover and solve the new problem at hand. He told all those that might be interested and worthy enough to be involved that the queen of Dalmasca went on a quest of utter immediacy and importance that she was suddenly gone without any sort of fanfare. Of course, he had to utilize his forces to make appear as if she were visible in some parts of Ivalice too, both to confuse the supposed enemy and to assure the people that she had not ended up in the middle of nowhere. He also did not want the public to panic and so he did not fully disclose the actual nature of the supposed quest and the other issues involved with it.

Keeping information, disseminating it and controlling it truly was a draining task, and he suddenly felt older than he actually was. He always wondered how the ninth bureau of the Archadian magistrate handled it… especially now that their supposed leader had "disappeared" as well.

Somehow, the thought disturbed him as he pondered more on it. The two people he had killed through his words were now actually together, freely together, partly due to another one of his lies. It was an irony now that he thought about it, how the two people whose existence he had put an end to are now together to reassure each other that they both truly still existed. The thought nagged him quite a lot as of late, and it intrigued him so much that he actually wrote about it in his journal. Yet what bothered him more was the news he just recently received. _Two people that were parted away from each other due to deceit now seemed to be getting closer on a quest for the truth_? Perhaps his _spy_ had been merely mislead… and read the signs wrongly. He after all does not know as much as he did. Yet the marquis's curiosity was aptly ensnared. He never really liked to meddle… but his conscience… and the ghosts of his friends (including Raminas, the late patriarch of Dalmasca…) have been nagging him to know more about these ... developments. He was personally intrigued by it too, for the woman involved, was his very own niece.

Of course he knew the man as well – and somehow a strange kind of bond was formed between them after all that had happened in the past. His words killed Basch Fon Ronsenberg, and this act saved both their lives in the end. He had successfully destroyed him – indirectly, yes, but he can never deny that he was involved in the misdeed. What was more disturbing was that the once impeccably honorable knight never really sought to get revenge or retribution. Instead, he played along with the circumstances and took upon two yokes – one of his old vows and the other of his brother's – the same brother who had ruined him. To think one man actually held the key to preserve the balance between two powers in Ivalice. To think one man had sacrificed himself – his whole being just for the good of the people who now loathed him. The marquis felt puny compared to the knight for the vastness of the latter's commission. Surely his verbal concoctions were nothing compared to what the knight was willing to do to save the previously warring states.

Now that he was somehow given a _clue_ as to how the knight could possibly stay focused on both vows and adamant in his goals … it was starting to make some sense. The knight was no saint after all; he merely had a worldly motivation that was strong enough to make him act the way he did. The marquis was told of how much the man seemed to _enjoy_ the queen's company as they pretended to be husband and wife back in the coast. Perhaps the fleeting exhilaration the knight might have felt in his heart was his _only_ _reward_ for his burdensome sacrifice. He wondered, was love so pure that it was powerful enough to strengthen yet subtle enough not to blemish one's pure intentions?

And now the plot thickens.

He set aside the report he just read and got the journal from his desk. It simply was getting more complex. At one hand, people were misled, and a nation was covered with a delicate blanket of ignorance – one tug at it may make the balance in Ivalice crumble once more after they had tried so hard to form it. Yet on another hand, a relationship bloomed that he somehow felt his past wrongs getting righted. Yet on another hand still, such petty thoughts were nothing compared to the actual, deeper and frightening events that were currently occurring in the background.

Conspiracies. Revenge. Power. Corruption.

These were themes that were too common for him now. Yet this new villain had a motive he had not seen before - Utter destruction. The older Solidor had radical plans of grandeur yet the marquis never imagined it to involve complete and utter devastation. The new force building up now, based on what they know so far; did not care about personal greatness or man's independence from the ethereal beings. They did not even care about the living. They were consumed with hatred and vengeance.

"_If a lesser evil can somehow divert a bigger foe…"_

His hand shook a bit as he wrote the lines in his journal. He truly was getting old for this kind of job. Yet retiring was out of the question. Not when there was still too much of Ivalice to see, when there were more faces of it that he has yet to analyze – when more events are yet to unfold before his eyes.

All he could do now is put his trust back on the group that once saved this land.

And perhaps he could also depend on a new force, a blossoming feeling, so profound that he could not fully grasp it.

"…_could something purely good vanquish it completely?"_

* * *

"Okay, now, I want to make a toast to Amalia and Basch. May they be blessed with more love and happiness," a small voice chirped, followed by an odd sounding hiccup, "kuupoo!"

"Cheers!" Basch heard the different hunters rejoice around the bonfire. He knew he was smiling as well, as he felt the slight, almost painful twitch in the corners of his cheeks. It was the least he could do to liven up the atmosphere in contrast to what he felt inside. He felt taps on his back and he nodded gratefully to them as he motioned across him and saw his supposed wife smiling brightly as well. He could not believe that it was only nights ago that she sat beside him, with her head resting on his shoulder, getting comfort, looking content.

So deep was he on his thoughts that he did not notice Amon as he poured another helping of wine on his glass. He only realized that the cup was filled with the dreaded fluid once more when Key spoke, "I also want to make a toast. To Amalia's _dear brother_. We hope he gets to go on more escapades with the ladies so he can leave his _sister_ alone… So poor Basch here can finally get some!"

The knight heard a subtle choke until a chorus of laughter erupted. He chuckled, pushing the liquid down his throat as he tried to see the humor in it all. He glanced at the skypirate and noticed his part-grimace and part-smile and saw it. "I do hope you stop teasing my _brother-in-law_ like that."

Then he heard the other man clear his throat, "yes, I do hope you'll stop picking on us both. I am sure _brother-in-law_ has already _gotten_ _quite a lot_." With that he glared at the knight almost tauntingly – an action not missed by the quiet Viera.

Ashe frowned, completely clueless about the exchange between the two men, as she heard the phrase once more. Was she so stupid that she still cannot grasp what it meant? She was surprised when Fran suddenly nudged her and smiled, offering her a plate of roasted game.

"Do not mind the men, their humor changes with liquor," she said knowingly, mirth evident in her eyes.

She nodded, glancing at Basch and suddenly feeling quite strange. She can't seem to remember seeing him this openly jovial before. Perhaps Fran's words held more truth than she thought? She always pictured Basch to be a man without any vices, and she never considered thinking of him in a drunken state. She wondered if he truly could be carried away. She doubted it after a while, realizing he was not as foolish – he perfectly knew that they would be leaving the first thing in the morning. That's why Balthier and Fran came to the coast in the first place. They were there to pick them up. They were to bring her to the supposed cure.

If everything goes well, she would remember everything. After which, she would return to Dalmasca, to pick up the tasks she left. Everything would be back in its place just as Basch would be back to where he belonged. No… he would no longer be Basch. He'd be Gabranth once more, and he would don that mask – that dark sinister looking mask that hid his face… his hair … his gentle eyes. He would be with Larsa, back in Archadia. Perhaps she would not be as lonely. She would remember the man whose name was written in her ring. She would remember Vaan, Penelo and Fran. She would remember Balthier completely and fondly acknowledge that he truly was alive and well. She would look back to this place, this camp, this bonfire, this crowd. She would remember his smile… his smile…

"I can't say I won't miss you guys, or else I'd be lying," Amon spoke as he let his glass touch Basch's unmoving ones as he held it firmly in his hand. "After that day you brought down the mark… You've earned my respect – and the other hunters' respect as well. When I saw the two of you talking, running around like children, I… somehow felt happy for you."

Basch gazed away from the fire for an instant and looked at the man beside him. The knight still had a hint of a smile, yet his eyes were narrowed once more, looking serious, almost lonely.

Basch's lack of response did not deter him from talking. "The other people I've met… most of them were just passing by. Not like you. The two of you seemed to make this place your true destination. It was as if, in the few weeks that you stayed here, you made it something like a home, something you can go back to," the fair haired man chuckled as he took another gulp from his glass, "it's rare to find other people like that – other people like me. This place has been like home for me."

Home, he had many all his life. There was Landis… Dalmasca… and now Archadia. His concept of a home seemed to change from the places and circumstances he had been subjected to. A home. He thought himself naïve when he remembered the childish thoughts in his head… In his mind, he often saw a house, warm and quaint – a family waiting for him, a wife welcoming him from the day's work… children… running around dropping their toys the instant they saw their father. Dalmasca… Archadia… Palaces and mansions were very different. Perhaps the cottage by the sea was different too. It was no home. Though it looked like one, it was truly just a mere fortress, a hideout. It was nothing but a façade.

"You're still young Amon, go find yourself a wife. Settle down," the words suddenly flowed out of his mouth. It was the very same words uttered to him by his superior officer, not too long ago.

"Settle down, Ha!" the man laughed as he grabbed the bottle of wine and poured more on his glass, "that is not the life for me. My home needs not a wife, I feel content with what I have."

_I envy you_, he wanted to say, yet he remained quiet as he watched the dancing fires before him. Truly he was starting to want … starting to ask for too much. He vowed to forget these childish thoughts long ago… Why did he start thinking about it now…

"But I wish you luck nevertheless. I suppose you are luckier than I,"

"What makes you say that?"

Amon shook his head for a while and debated on whether or not he should say his thoughts out loud. Yet he supposed he could use the alcohol as an excuse if he gets teased because of narrating his sob story once more, "Well… see, I have been attached to this place for as long as I remember. I was practically born here. They said I drifted here with a dying woman…perhaps my mother – and all she was able to say about my supposed identity was my name. So in the end, I was practically shaped in this coast - raised by hunters. I guess I would've lived a better life if I had been raised by a pack of wolves," he stopped for a while as he laughed yet Basch remained quiet as he listened to the story, "Well anyway, my point is that, I often leave and go search for something I do not know … and my only consolation when I end up with nothing is that I can go back to this hell hole I can call my home – this home that let me be," he stopped and looked around him, seeing the laughing, dancing and hearing the noise around him, "You two… well, it seems like you can go anywhere yet all you have to do is remember each other and just like that, you have a home. You are complete."

Think of each other… it was no home. It was a dungeon. All he would be able to think about is her distance from him – how far away she truly was from his grasp – and how he would be incapable of doing anything.

"But for what it's worth, in case you decide to come back here, we'll always welcome you… or if you get into any sort of trouble… well, I know you're much more capable than I in handling it, but I still owe you one. You saved my life back then and I'd gladly return the favor…"

"Thank you, Amon," Basch replied solemnly, his voice a bit gruff with alcohol, or at least that was what the other man thought. He smiled back.

"Well, now that I've gotten that out of my chest, I must say, Basch, you better go to your _wife_," Amon grinned, suddenly looking much younger than he truly was, "if she had a rope around you, she would have managed to pull you beside her by now."

Basch glanced at her then, and saw her expression still as cheerful as it was that morning. Her gaze was fully focused on the sky pirate as he seemed to be narrating something quite extraordinary to her. He then wondered if she enjoyed his stories as much as she enjoyed his. His face darkened a bit, and he was suddenly uncharacteristically moody. It must have been the wicked fluid. It was starting to toy with his head…"It's plain to see she's quite absorbed in her _brother's_ tales, I do not wish to bother her,"

"Oh, but she had been glancing here from time to –"

"I haven't noticed."

Amon shook his head as the events unfolded before him. "Stop acting like a child, else he'd steal her away from you."

He looked sharply at the man beside him then, surprised at his words, yet oddly expecting them nonetheless.

"Come on Basch, it's plain to see they're not related. Even I look more like Amalia than he does!" Amon exclaimed, hoping to kid yet ending up not getting a positive reaction from the knight. "Ok… I promise not to tell alright? It's just that… I've noticed him from somewhere…"

Basch silently berated himself for his foolishness. Now things might have become complicated due to his lack of prudence, "He is very dear to her, and there is no reason for her to feel otherwise. He is a good man," he sighed, almost resignedly, "you can put your mind at ease. He is a close comrade."

Amon bit back whatever he was going to say wryly, noticing the forlorn look the man beside him had. It was his mind that needed easing, he thought. He could either blame Basch's change of demeanor on the suave man or on the curiously strong alcohol. Where was the couple he believed so much in? Where were the sparks he often saw? A bit frustrated, he stood up and messed his hair. He then walked casually behind the three people seated across them and paced back and forth

Basch watched the man with slight amusement, not really knowing what he was planning. He was unprepared when Amon suddenly bent down, whispered something to Fran, causing the Viera to suddenly have a quizzical expression on her face. He then saw her tilt her head slightly and seconds after, she stood up, extending her arm to the host of the camp as if she actually accepted… an invitation to dance? Mere seconds later they were already at the other side of the bonfire, joining the happy crowd, looking hesitant as to how to go about the task. Yet soon Amon smiled that boyish smile of his once more, and it seemed like the two finally got into the rhythm. Suddenly, he was rid of all his thoughts as he just observed the Viera, looking as if… she were seriously dancing… and just then the fair-haired man shot him a look – as if issuing a challenge – and Basch was left with no choice but to gaze back at the people across him once more.

Now there were only two of them - the queen and the sky pirate – and they seemed momentarily entranced as he was. Basch sighed as he realized that his new friend truly must be a hunter, and now he was caught in his trap. He wearily stood up from his seat and approached them.

He sat down carefully beside Balthier, without even uttering a word, noticing that the other man's neck was still craned and eager to see what was happening in the dancing area. He merely sighed once more, thinking about Amon's foolishness and still not getting over Fran's candidness that he actually managed to let out a chuckle.

"You would break your neck if you continue to stare like that," he said, his voice deep and serious.

"Who is that man anyway?" Balthier frowned, having a hard time cloaking his annoyance.

"That's Amon, he's a friend of ours, he helped us settle down here," the knight finally heard Ashe speak as she addressed the brunette, up close for the first time that evening. Her tone was soft, almost sweet, and instead of eliciting something pleasant from his heart, it resulted to another feeling altogether.

He really was jealous, and he knew it.

He knew he was being irrational – and Amon was right. He was being too immature. All these years spent on earth seemed to amount to nothing after what he had felt that whole night. Patience. Forbearance. Virtuousness. Those were very basic principles of knighthood. Acceptance. Humility. Sportsmanship. Ideals he should have learned to live up to by now. That night, he knew that there was no room for passion, devotion, and perseverance – else he'd end up acting like a madman.

"Why don't you join them?" he suggested, sounding almost happy, but mostly for himself as he realized he still actually had it in him to say the words out loud.

"Join them he says…" Balthier muttered, tugging on his fake mustache as he suddenly felt itch in his skin.

"Fran seems to be popular with the men, doesn't she?" Ashe commented offhandedly, noticing the line that suddenly trailed behind the other dancers. "Yet she seems to be good in holding up on her own." She started to feel slightly envious after seeing the other woman's independence. "I wish I can dance like that."

"Oh? Surely you knew how to dance…. Merely just forgotten," Balthier replied, not losing his wind, until his back stiffened once more, "Although… I don't believe those steps were deemed conventional in the Dalmascan court…"

The skypirate suddenly looked helpless, as he tried to rationalize everything in his head. There he was seated in the sand, with a beautiful princess beside him and a slightly intimidating knight nearby, looking almost like a gargoyle. His partner was there dancing in a crowd of uncultured men, seeming not to care… and even looking like she was having fun… to think she mentioned earlier that she was not as young as she used to be… HA! If she could only see her self now, swaying like a debutante… It's not that he minded - he did not mind at all. She did after all look more exquisite and more enchanting… but… he…..

"Perhaps my new found _brother_ can assist the lady and teach her moves that are more…" and he can't believe that Fran just did what he think she did… "… appropriate?"

"I apologize. I am afraid dancing is definitely not one of my talents," he merely looked up when he saw the sky pirate stand stiffly.

"Well… in that case… if you would excuse me…"

And just like that they were left alone. Together. Just Ashe and he.

He set his drinking cup aside and sat more loosely, leaning back to see the stars. He wanted to close his eyes but stopped himself from doing so, knowing it was impolite. Yet it was becoming harder for him to look at her when she was so close, especially after remembering all the things they have done in the past few weeks – after realizing how much he had bared and how much she has taken from his heart.

"Is everything all right Basch?" the tone she used as she talked to him was different from the tone she used with Balthier. "You seem to look a bit flustered…" and when he heard her voice again, he felt all his anger and jealousy get washed away.

She reached up to touch his face and he fell back, looking almost as if he had evaded an attack, "I... apologize. It must be the fire and… the wine. It's getting warmer here…"

She looked confused at first yet when their eyes finally made contact, she smiled once more. "Then come on. Let's walk by the shore," she said as she offered her hand invitingly.

Basch took her hand reluctantly, barely holding her at first, yet finally succumbing to her touch until he almost clutched her hand.

How many days and nights had it been, when they walked by the shore as they did at that moment? Surely it was something worth noting, as the experience might have been unique to them both. Now that they were together, with the calm waves and the clear sky as their only witness, he felt everything fade into the background. There seemed to be no festivity going on, there were no hunters, no camp, no comrades, no Balthier. It was just the two of them. For once that night he was finally calm. His rumbling heart was quiet though still admittedly apprehensive. It was because he knew - often in these moments did his heart and mind struggle. Suffice to say, his heart had been winning the arguments as of late.

He glanced at the woman beside him, and noticed how her smile faded and was now replaced by a frown. Was he being too inattentive? Did she actually prefer someone else's company? Was his heart being overbearing? Did he need to let go?

"Do you think… the cure might work?" Ashe asked, her voice barely a whisper. He felt the fear in her voice that he squeezed her hand to comfort her.

Her trepidation was unsettling, especially because he was feeling the same way. He did not know how to answer her to put her at ease. "The antidote was developed in the same laboratory where the poison was made. Surely it would work," he replied nonetheless, although part of him treacherously wished it would not be so.

"I am supposed to be happy… but right now I am not," she looked up to face him and instead saw his downcast eyes. Suddenly she felt as if he carried the same sentiment, "Why is it so Basch? Are there memories that I'd rather forget?"

She seemed so vulnerable, and it tore him up inside. How could he add to her burden? How could he be so insensitive – he realized that had been thinking all night only about himself.

"Those memories would make you whole again."

"But why do I feel so empty… right now… Why do I feel like I'll never be complete?" her hands slipped away from his and he had to look back to see her standing almost dejectedly behind him. She had unshed tears in her eyes, and her forlorn expression completely contrasted the bright smile she had earlier.

"I'm sorry…"

"No… no, I'm just … It's my fault," she closed her eyes, blinking away her tears, "I think I may be becoming irrational."

He remained silent as he looked at her. Suddenly, she seemed like a woman with no trappings. Suddenly, he saw her just as a woman who was capable of loving and was desperate to be loved. Her shoulders shook yet she stood firmly on her ground. Amidst everything she was still strong, she was still so bright. She was still so pure and so open… all he had to do was to walk closer and …

She felt it once more – that crushing embrace, just when she needed it. She breathed in deeply, pushing back her tears and reveling in the moment.

His heart won the argument once more… yet this did not stop his mind from retorting.

_Once you remember everything, you'll realize that I do not deserve you. I do not even deserve to touch you. When you remember, I would not be able to comfort you like this again. When you remember, you'll realize that this interlude was but a dream, a one-sided fantasy. When you remember, you'll see that these moments were born out of my weakness. It will lose its worth and might even be seen as a transgression…_

_But it didn't matter…not anymore._

"You would remember all those moments that filled you with joy," he whispered, each word causing a certain ache in his heart, "you'll remember the moments you vowed not to forget. You'll remember the people, the faces, the feelings in your heart. You'll remember those you have loved and who have loved you in return."

His words were meant to soothe her yet why did she feel bothered even more bothered by it. "But why Basch? Why do I still feel anxious… it's almost as if … you are drifting away."

"I… "He stopped, not knowing how to phrase the words as he loosened his hold and placed his arms by his sides once more. Ashe looked surprised, suddenly feeling colder than she was earlier. "I'm sorry…"

"Is that all you can say? You're sorry?" she said, her voice barely audible. "Is there something about me… a part of me that you cannot accept? Is that why you're always trying to keep your distance?"

He closed his eyes tightly and shook his head. That was just it. He loved her – all of her. He did not just love Amalia, her incomplete self, lacking the memories and the reasons that could possibly make her loathe him. He loved her - every piece, every bit of her. And it pained him how he could not give her all of him – his past, nor his future. He could only give her the Basch she knew – the side of him that existed only for her. Once she remembers and all of this is gone, this side of him would fade as well and be nothing but a passing memory.

"Since I am to be completed anyway as you say, then why don't you just take it? Take me." She moved closer to him, looked up to him with a defiant expression, "take what you need to get. Get everything! Get my soul, my tears… my love…just get it already, just get it!"

It happened before he even thought of it. Her lips were soft as he always imagined them to be, shaking as they were. His eyes were closed yet in his mind he could see her. Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca, the woman who brought him back to life, the woman he wanted to give his life to. As he moved his lips to form a rhythm with hers, he could not help but feel his heart twitching and his stomach knotting up. He always thought that the feeling would be pleasant but oddly enough it felt so … wrong… Yet he wanted it… he longed for it… he needed more…

She leaned further and she felt herself losing her balance. It happened too quickly and she was surprised… she could not even feel the tears in her eyes anymore… all she felt was the beating of her heart. It danced merrily and butterflies were in her stomach … She reached out to touch him, to hold him closer and yet…

He pulled away and the kiss abruptly ended.

And just like that she was brought back to her senses. She was in the quiet shore once more. She opened her eyes to catch her breath, only to see him looking away.

"I cannot be your Rasler," he grumbled, touching his hair in agitation, "Nor can I be your Balthier." What had he done? What had he done? How could he possibly forgive himself now? How was he to move on?

"How can you be? You are Basch," she said, almost like she were still in a daze as she calmed her speeding heart. Looking at his frustration, she started to wonder if they truly shared a kiss at all.

"That's just it. I am Basch." He looked at her then and she froze. His eyes… there was so much pain in them. So much pain… "Please forgive me."

And just like that he walked away. She felt her knees buckling as her tears fell freely down her eyes. "but it is you who I love," she cried, with nothing but the waves to hear her plea, "It is you, Basch…."she whispered dejectedly, "It is you."

* * *

Author's notes: Whoooah boy. That was a long chapter. Hard for me to write. I think I have been inconsistent. Gah. It's so depressing. I hope I pulled it off though. What do you guys think? I'm sorry, I have no energy left to have trivia time, but anyway, I want to thank all those who have read, and all those who have reviewed. There are so many masterpieces in the FF12 category, I just feel so honored that you actually took time to read my fic. Again, thanks so much guys. Love you all. And Merry Christmas just in case I get lost and not continue this soon enough. Again, thank you!


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

She woke up, only to see darkness around her, thus she doubted ever waking up at all. Yet she felt an eerily strange feeling, one that reminded her of nightmares. But compared to the awful dreams she had as of late, this time she felt even more helpless. There were no sounds, no images; there was nothing. She tried to close her eyes, but then she realized that she still could not tell the difference. She could not tell anymore whether this state or place she was in was simply concocted by her mind or if it were simply something else.

So she decided to call out

Uttering _his_ name

Yet there was no reply.

It was then when she started to get frightened. She tried calling out once more, yet she realized that she could not even hear her own voice.

She touched herself, slightly comforted by the knowledge that she seemed to still exist. She could still feel; she could still touch.

And suddenly she realized that she was alone, all alone.

She had depended too much on him, she thought, and now he was not there to save her. But surely, he would not abandon her completely, could he? He would come for her, perhaps not out of love, but definitely not out of simple guilt alone. She knew should give him more credit than that. He would come for her, surely he would.

Yet at the moment, she had no choice but to stand up for herself.

What was she to do? What could she do to fight her way out of this void?

"_There is nothing you can do Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca"_

Finally there was something else she could somehow grasp. Yet the voice came so suddenly and faded so abruptly, that she also started doubting ever hearing it at all.

"_I have been searching for you, and you've been unexpectedly good in hiding."_

The voice spoke once more, and now she was sure that it was no mere figment of her imagination.

There was something sinister about the voice she heard that she instinctively moved back, hoping to protect herself. Yet there was nothing behind her, no walls, nor structures. Thus she stumbled backwards, falling on the ground and she was almost thankful that she did not fall in an abyss. She touched the ground with her hands, feeling slightly relieved for being able to touch something solid other than herself.

"_ are fickle, and it would give me great pleasure to break you down completely. "_

The voice continued to torment her, and while the presence of another being lessened her fear, his apparent control over her bothered her. Who was the owner of this voice? When was he to strike?

Gathering up all her courage, she stood up from where she sat, putting her arms forward as if preparing herself for a fight. She felt the blood rush through her veins. It was a familiar feeling. Her helplessness fueled her drive to fight once more. Perhaps this was how she had been, when she had been strong enough to protect herself. She had no one but herself now, and she knew she should fight. She had no other choice.

And suddenly there was movement – she felt it. It was getting closer… and closer… she raised her arms, ready to strike…

"There is no point in fighting, _Amalia_. Your time is up."

She felt it. There was someone clutching her tightly, firmly holding her neck and she felt herself struggling to breathe.

"let… let… go of me!" She rasped fearfully yet silently as she struggled in the dark.

"Now why would I do that?" and suddenly, she felt his breath on one side of her face, "I've been watching you for a while… I tried so hard to look for you, but you have not even bothered looking for me?"

His grip tightened around her neck, and she suddenly felt her heart beating faster than she could ever imagine. She had to fight… but she was so weak. And he was not there… he was not there to save her. Then she wondered if he would even come at all. Could he even come at all?

"Who… are… you…?"

She heard his laughter despite her baffling pain and panic. Surely she was in no dream now, for if she had been, then she would have woken up from the pain. She was trapped. She was going to die… she was going to die…

"Not yet, I am afraid," the voice taunted her once more as he pulled her hair back, causing her to yelp out albeit soundlessly in pain. She then felt something cold touching her lips and soon, bitter fluid was forced inside her mouth, completely catching her off guard and she had no choice but to drink it.

Her tormentor snickered once more, and she barely heard it as her senses were getting numbed by the involuntary choking and gagging that wracked her body. Yet the sounds didn't seem to bother the man who held her tightly. He merely whispered slowly in her ears as if to let her hear what he has to say without missing a single word, "Who am I you ask? I am the keeper of your past…"

Keeper? Of the past? Everything was getting hazy once more and she started to feel too weak to struggle, too weak to even shiver in fear. Keeper of her past? The words continued to echo in her mind.

"I shall give you back your memories, _Ashelia_. And soon, I shall deliver your retribution as well."

She felt herself sinking deeper into oblivion, as the sound of her heartbeat faded each second. It reached a point where she could not even hear the steady rhythm anymore, for all sounds were replaced with that of dwindling yet menacing laughter.

* * *

"She's gone."

Balthier never liked to be the bearer of bad news, simply because it was such a difficult thing to do. It was even harder when it was plain to see that the receiver of such news was badly hung-over. But he knew how it was; it takes time for a man to wake up and come to his senses during the wee hours of the morning especially after the merriment that occurred the night before – but he never expected it to take this long. After all, the man before him was used to things like night raids, emergencies and whatnot. Surely he was more capable of being in control under such immediate and stressful situations like this one.

"Perhaps you should zap him with a thunder spell after all," the sky pirate grumbled to his partner, hoping to catch his breath as he trailed behind the confused man. He never expected the knight to be in a state of panic. He personally was nervous too, in fact, he was almost scared. Yet he never expected this from the stoic knight. Never.

His partner merely shrugged at his remark, looking at Basch knowingly, "give him a few more minutes. He had one too many last night."

Fran was surprisingly understanding, and it almost … bothered him. She was not this nice, even to him. Perhaps she simply saw something that he didn't?

Basch suddenly stopped walking and faced them. "But she was there… with you last night. I saw her… she entered the cottage and retired for the night…" the pale man spoke in low tones, as he dazedly walked back closer to where the sky pirates stood, "She was there… wasn't she?"

"Yes she was Basch," the Viera replied patiently, hoping to calm the shaken man, "she said she was going to get something she left behind by the campfire and she has not been back since."

Balthier looked at the exchange between the two, and quite frankly, he was starting to get annoyed. That was the third time he heard the same words getting exchanged between them. Yet every time he wanted to say something about it, Fran would always eye him, the way she eyed him now, with an expression that told him to hold his tongue.

"Then we must leave right away. They have her. Who ever it is, surely they do."

And finally it happened, he thought, the man snapped.

But at least they're getting somewhere.

"Erm… Basch, wouldn't it be better, perhaps if we rallied the troops or at least, wear some shoes first for heaven's sake. I mean. I know we are in a rush and all that but…"

The man stopped once more, as if to think, and the sky pirate was glad for the semblance of sanity he saw in his eyes.

"You always were the impulsive one Balthier," Basch sighed, as he ran a slightly shaking hand through his hair. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been so thoughtless."

"And you were always the apologetic one," seeing the desolation in his eyes, he could not help but place a firm hand on the knight's shoulder, "We would find her. I know." His despair…perhaps that was what Fran saw all along? The man was carrying a heavy burden in his heart and mind.

Now that he thought about it, it only seemed logical that Basch acted the way he did. After all, he was the ever dutiful knight that tended to take his oaths to heart. For that they seemed to be quite different, but he must admit that he felt that under the situation they were currently in, they were almost the same. Balthier was worried about Ashe too, and what made matters worse was that it was also part of his negligence that she was currently missing.

"First we must tell Vaan and the others. Surely Larsa already has something up his sleeve. He had been following the clues quite closely." Fran said, taking the lead.

"Clues?"

"A minor skirmish in the Estersands, a confession by way of a suicide letter by one of the palace maids – seemingly isolated minor details that are starting to come together…"

Basch was taken aback, suddenly remembering reports he received before he left his department a few weeks ago. "A group of insurgents… survivors of Nabudis." How could he have been so careless? Here he was frolicking in the Phon coast when something so grave had been brewing in the background?

The knight started thinking clearly again. He felt as if he was finally over his state of panic, and his hands were starting to feel warm once more. It started to itch, almost demanding to clear the way, almost murderously wanting to let blood be shed, just for him to get her back.

"We must make haste. The sooner we get anywhere, the sooner would A…malia be saved." Fran stopped when she saw a moogle making its way to them.

Now it took him a while to calm his anger, to put up his calm image of the Basch the people in the Phon coast knew. It was kind of sad, now that he thought about it, that this moment had to be spoiled by the sudden turn of events. This may be the last time he may exist so freely, the last time he can talk casually to friends. He watched the moogle get closer to where they stood, and suddenly the events of the past month flashed in his mind.

Mighty heaved for a bit before he spoke. There was a sad expression on his usually cherubic face, "I heard you were leaving. I didn't think it would be so soon...kupo"

Basch made his way forward and bent down to be closer to the small moogle. To think it wasn't too long ago when the tiny creature welcomed them to the coast. "I'm sorry Mighty. Something came up. We have to leave right away."

Mighty pouted, suddenly looking like a young child, "That's just too bad. Amon won't even have the chance to say goodbye."

They were such good friends, Amon, Key, Mighty and the others. He would miss them. "Please send him my regards."

"Kupo," he said, his colorful tail suddenly fell and tears almost welled up in his eyes.

"So then, until next time my friend,"

"Goodbye Basch… Goodbye to you all… Say hi to Ama-"

"- Amon is not here you say? Isn't it too early to hunt for marks?" Balthier suddenly spoke, with something more than curiosity in his tone of voice. Basch was somehow startled by it, quickly noting what Balthier may have been thinking.

"Well, we were cleaning up when suddenly he said something about a mission… he left urgently after that…"

"A mission you say?" the sky pirate walked closer and observed the moogle carefully. Somehow, this _Amon_'s disappearance was quite unsettling for him. He never liked the guy. And it had _nothing to do_ with _what happened last night_ either.

"Balthier… you do not think that…" Basch shook his head, becoming paler than he already was. Amon was a good friend. Surely he was not involved with this… surely he was not… yet suddenly he was back on his shoes, almost a year ago, when Vossler's betrayal unfolded before him.

"It's too soon to think… or not think of anything." He left it ambiguously at that, and soon he was off.

Must this interlude end so bitterly? Perhaps this was his punishment for indulging on it too much. When friends turned to foes and the things one held dear are suddenly stolen away, all a man could do is try to be brave – try to have the courage and the strength to get back what small piece of it he can salvage.

He will get back the most important piece, the only important jewel in his life.

With things still nagging him at the back of his mind, he continued to say his goodbyes to Mighty and soon after, he followed the sky pirates. Things were starting to look grim for him – and even the coast seemed uncharacteristically darker….

Yet in his mind, in his heart, one thing stayed clear. He knew. He must save her no matter what.

* * *

"_Captain Basch is no more…"_

"_Daughter, I was always so afraid for this day to come… but seeing you so beautiful… your mother surely smiles down on us from heaven…"_

"_Nabudis has fallen"_

"_Take this ring, as a sign of my love and loyalty…"_

"_A great tragedy has befallen us. His majesty King Raminas was murdered…"_

"_I do not want to believe that this marriage had been merely orchestrated. Ashelia…. I feel for you something more… much more."_

"_Nalbina did not survive the siege. With our allies' death, I am afraid I have to do the unthinkable… I am afraid I might have to resort to negotiating with the Archadians…"_

"_Ashelia… please… do not cry…. Smile… for me….please…"_

"_You must be forgetting something, in this little story, I play the leading man."_

"_No, it is for the best. I cannot give you the name of your father's murderer. Forgive me. I don't think your heart can endure any more."_

"_An orchestration… the only way for you to live is for the people to know that you have died. It is not abandonment! It is for the good of Dalmasca."_

"_My brother… he died in Nalbina three years ago."_

"_The Captain has returned… But the prince… oh Princess, Prince __Rasler__ is…"_

"_Ashe, or must I call you… princess now? I am so happy for you, but I hope you won't forget Vaan and me… we'd always be your friends right? We'll always be here for you."_

"_Let's work together not only for the empire, or Dalmasca. Let's do it for the people of all of Ivalice." _

"_Highness! You are doing perfectly. Looks like you've already mastered floating in water!"_

"_It was Basch… He was the one who did it."_

"_Highness…"_

"_Men… they come and go yet some linger. I've always found it strange how hume males acted, but perhaps the females are even stranger. Always waiting, eagerly waiting yet always fleeting, just when they are near the men's grasp. Such kind of play was unheard of in the wood. Perhaps one day I may fully understand it as well."_

"_Amalia, are you ready to go?"_

"_Basch was your father's murderer."_

"_If I could protect but one person from war's horror... then I would bear any shame. I would bear it proudly. I could not defend my home. What is shame to me?"_

"_Forgive me, Lady Ashe. It was due to Gabranth's last request that Basch swore his allegiance to me."_

"_Highness, should you need me, I would always be of service."_

"_You know what they say about the leading man…"_

"_That's just it, I am Basch!"_

"… _He never dies."_

"_Ashelia… my love… I … "_

"NO!" she screamed as the pain in her head almost felt like it tore her whole being apart. The voices… there were too many of them… all at the same time. The voices… joy… fear… sadness… death….

"Please…make it stop…"

Her captor gripped her arms tightly, almost piercing her skin, yet she continued to hang loosely, almost limply from his grasp as the pain completely debilitated her. He raised his hand to hit her across the face yet she barely felt it for her throbbing head made her suffer immensely.

"How does it feel now, having all those emotions inside? Who would have thought that mere memories could affect you so? To think you are suffering so greatly already? We have just barely started."

"Why… why are you doing this to me…?" she asked, taking all her self control and her pride so as not to beg. She cringed slightly, still feeling weak from everything that she had been through.

"Why? You do not deserve to know why," he muttered as he let go of her abruptly, almost throwing her to the hard floor. "But since you're suffering more than I had wanted you to, I would accommodate you on your request."

She looked up, moving her face slightly on the ground so she could have a better view. The light was starting to enter her eyes again, after all those images flashed on her head, after a long amount of darkness. She looked hard, trying her best to focus, until finally she saw a silhouette of a man. He bent down and lifted her head, and soon she had a closer view of him.

"You have been very careless Ashelia Dalmasca. And you've been quite a little whore." Why was he so angry? What had she done to him, she asked her self. "All those deaths… those sacrifices amounted to nothing. To think you have moved on, selling yourself to the enemy… loving traitors? My… I never thought you could be so … dirty Ashelia… Your subjects would thank me for getting rid of you… but first you must help me exact my revenge."

"What… what more do you want from me?"

A pair of hands covered her eyes and the man started chanting. A spell? She was suddenly getting forced to sleep once more – a fitful sleep full of nightmares. She tried to resist it but to no avail.

"Keep those emotions inside Ashelia… Do not worry… I'll let you explode in a while… and with your blood, you can take out with you the whole of Archadia…"

"_There was someone more important I had to defend, and defend her I did."_

She was starting to lose hope. But with all the faith she could muster amid her despair, she decided to call out to him one last time. For through all the shifting tides and changing times, one thing remained constant. She only prayed he'd come in time to defend her once again.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

At first he didn't think she needed saving – after the way she went with the cloaked men willingly. They seemed to be comrades of sorts when they picked her up by the coast in the wee hours of the morning, and so he didn't mind it. Yet… knowing that Amalia was one half of the pair he had under his surveillance, he could not help but feel that he needed to know where she was heading, especially when she left her supposed better half. She seemed calm enough when she went with them – seemed to be too meek even, and that was precisely why he started to think that something was wrong. And it was also precisely why he followed them in the first place.

Spying was something he wasn't really fond of, but it was part of the life he grew up in. It was part of the livelihood that kept him well fed. But it was different when his subjects seemed so innocent – when they seemed to be less than what his clients told him they truly were. Basch and Amalia… they seemed like an ordinary couple to him. A bit awkward, but nevertheless it was plain to see that they were not pretending – or at least they seemed to be very good at it if they really were doing so. Sure Basch's name rang a bell… but the traitor had died years ago… and perhaps that wasn't his real name in the first place… Yet even if that was him, he admitted that he had seen worse. Basch was a good man, and no matter what his past had been, he would always be the same Basch to him.

Thinking about these things preoccupied him for a while. It calmed his nerves as he waited for the right time to strike. He was starting to feel like a coward when he realized he had been hiding in what seemed to be one of the trunks of a moving contraption on which Amalia and her companions loaded for quite a while now. And to his relief, he realized that the vehicle finally stopped. It was his cue to finally move. There was no room for error now. Not when he had a subject… no… a friend's life in his hands.

He listened carefully at first, checking if the coast was clear. Oddly enough, he heard nothing, but at the same time he heard an odd form of noise around him. He deduced that he was in a hollow place judging from the low, almost inaudible sounds he heard. After he realized that no one seemed to be close by, he decided to wait no further and opened the door, tentatively at first…

Only to see a ground filled with rotting … corpses?

What was this place? He had never seen it before.

He examined one of the carcasses on the ground. From what he could tell, the one he looked at used to be a seeq. There was a mark on his arm which was hard to decipher for it was dark… but he couldn't say that it was pitch black either. Not too far away was a source of light… a lamppost. But then he thought that he couldn't just drag the corpse just to see what was written on its arm. He decided to abandon his find for a while and moved closer to the light, thinking, but not necessarily wishing, that he might see more corpses along the way. As he moved, he noticed another thing. There were carts nearby. The heavy metallic carts seemed to belong to a rail yet now it lay idly in the ground. As he got farther and higher up the steps, he realized that behind him was water from what seemed to be a lagoon. It surprised him at first, as he didn't hear sounds of moving water when he was in fact nearer to it a while ago. He knew the sound of water all too well – he lived with it all his life. Yet as he looked more closely, the water in the lagoon seemed to be unmoving. In fact, now that he thought about it, it seemed like it wasn't a lagoon after all. Things just weren't making sense to him at the moment. But before he could figure out where he was, he remembered why he was there in the first place.

He cursed himself silently when he realized he waited too long to come out from his cover. Now, no one was in sight. He didn't even know where Amalia went – or at least where her supposed captors have taken her. There was no trail, no clue… just an area of thickening mist ahead of him.

Normally he wouldn't be inclined to go deeper into such a place, considering the frightening stories that hunters from all over Ivalice told him about the mist. God only knows what kinds of fiends lurked there. Yet oddly enough, he remembered something at the back of his mind – it wasn't one of his most pleasing memories, in fact, it was an episode quite frightening, that he almost wanted to forget about it.

"_Please protect her, and I will protect you both,"_

Protect her. Protect her. The words kept on repeating itself in his mind. He was not even sure if Amalia was there in the first place. He wasn't even sure he was capable of coming out of that place alive. Yet oddly enough … he knew. There was something, someone waiting there for him. It was almost as if he was destined to be in that place. He could feel it burning in his blood, invigorating him and giving him the courage to move forward.

The heroes probably were on their way. Perhaps he just had to buy them some time.

* * *

He was weak and he knew it. No matter how much he tried to be strong for her, at the end of the day, he was still powerless. He was robbed of everything, his name, his honor, his freedom. Somehow, he managed to break free and be a man again, just to serve her. Yet at a time when she most needed him, all he could do was watch and wait.

"Are you sure this is the only way?" he heard Penelo speak beside him as she addressed Vaan. She glanced his way a bit hesitantly and the worried look in her face told him that he might have been scowling… just a bit too much.

"More importantly Vaan, are you absolutely sure this is the right place?" it was Balthier who spoke up then, as he moved forward and looked at the contraption Vaan was tinkering with himself. "This lock hasn't been touched since time immemorial!"

"I know what I'm doing okay?" the boy grumbled, finally looking up from what he was doing, "How come if Larsa says it, you all believe it, yet when I do, you all start to doubt me. When did information from the Clan Primers ever fail us?"

They have been standing idly in the Garamsythe waterway for several minutes now, and the boy couldn't seem to activate one of the gate's controls. He knew he could not offer his help with this kind of thing, and he knew very little about the situation. Even if he wished to run and fight, he would not know which way to go. Therefore he seemed helpless and hopeless and it seemed like he could not do anything about it.

"The dead would not lie." He then felt Fran's hands on his shoulders, as if trying to stop him from doing anything – which was quite unnecessary, as he had been immobile for minutes. She looked at him knowingly and nodded, then quickly let go and moved closer to Vaan. "If you say the journal fragments were obtained from the undead fiends that you have defeated a while back, then I suppose the information is reliable."

Penelo shot him another worried look and focused her gaze back to what Vaan was doing mere seconds later. Did she sense his control slipping away? His calm façade was crumbling quickly and he knew it.

Why was he thinking so selfishly at a time like this, he asked himself as he closed his eyes for a while, tightening his grip on his sword as he had nothing else to do at the moment. Yet he could not find a reason why he should not be thinking about it either. With all the events that were happening – he was reminded of how it was, several years ago, when was locked in that cage, barely alive, barely a man. He breathed yet he could not do anything to save her. He realized in every waking moment that he was incapable of fulfilling his vows to protect her. Yet in the end, all his sentiments had all been unnecessary, for she grew stronger and was suddenly capable of protecting herself, no thanks to him.

He always thought she needed him, but then he realized he was merely kidding himself. She probably was not as anxious as he was now, as time passed idly still without him by her side. It wasn't really she who needed him all along. It was the other way around.

Just when he truly had an opportunity to protect her, just when she was so vulnerable and needed all the protection and the care that he vowed to give – that was when he fell apart and succumbed to his own weakness.

Now where did that careless sentiment of his put them, where was she now? She was in the hands of a maniac, toyed with to accomplish a grand pointless scheme of utter destruction.

Ashe's captor was a sick man, and he honestly believed that Larsa sugarcoated his description of the madman for his sake. Yet he knew their kind. He was not as naïve. The man had lost everything, just as he had. He lost his home, his family – and he was willing to throw everything away. He felt betrayed as he was alone. He just wanted anything and everything to die just as his heart had.

All of this was because the man did not have anything to live for – and that was probably the only thing that set them apart.

Which was why… which was why…

Penelo did not even have time to scream as she saw the Excalibur's blade up close… too close in fact, that she realized that it merely missed her by hairsbreadth. Vaan was in no better position, as she saw him in the ground looking as surprised as she was.

"What the hell did you do that for?!" he finally spoke out loud seconds later, and she was glad to hear that he had recovered already.

A weak man could only take in so much. He just could not wait anymore. He needed her so badly. He was starting to go mad.

Fran moved closer and helped Vaan to stand back up to his feet, whispering, "He did not aim for you. He was just becoming too impatient."

"Er… Basch, you do know why loggers yell timber when they cut trees don't you?" the sky pirate remarked, yet he could only glance back at him. They all moved back when he swung his sword once more and they realized that some kinds of steel can be cut by weapons after all

…given the right pressure and the right circumstance that is.

He walked passed Vaan without even pausing to apologize. He could not even think about those things anymore. He just had one thought in mind. He had to reach her. He had to hold her.

With each swipe, each stroke, each fiend defeated, he somehow prayed it was another step closer to her. He could not even feel the cuts any more. He could not even feel the wounds anymore.

"Basch… there's something at the junction… it is…" Vaan was shouting frantically behind him, as Penelo continued to mumble spells for protection, "Basch, wait up will you? It might kill us in one blow."

No… No.. he could not die. Not yet. Not until he reaches her.

He started to feel the fire in his veins as the mist enveloped him. He would purge whatever would stand in his way. Nothing can stop him now.

He was a very weak man and he had nothing to waste. Yet he would continue to fight with all that he's got.

* * *

If there was something worse than a pile of corpses, it would definitely be a horde of troubled undead. His arm ached already after he realized that he might have chained nearly sixty of these horrendous skeletons already. He saw blood splatter before his eyes in the last encounter he engaged in, and he guessed that the wound in his left arm was probably longer than he thought it to be. After all, zombies do not bleed, and if blood was getting shed at the moment, it would definitely be his. Yet he tried not to think about it as he decided to hide behind one of the carts to rest for a while. The path started to get brighter because of lampposts that seemed to line the broken path, yet instead of making it easier for him, it made matters worse as the fiends spotted him more easily. On another hand, the light helped him decipher the marks that were present in many of the corpses that he saw later on.

It was slightly disturbing to know that the marks were actually brands – a sequence of numbers that almost looked like tags. These corpses have been identified, classified, perhaps even before they died. They were probably the outcasts of society, beings that no longer deserved to have names. And perhaps, the corpses he saw were all that was left of those who desired to break free, those who decided that they were not meant to rot in the Nalbina dungeons forever. It's just too bad for them that they apparently took a wrong turn… Could they have been powerless against the monsters that lurked in the mist? Or could they possibly have fueled the wicked mist even more?

More importantly, what business did Amalia or those who took her have in this hell hole, of all places? He felt as if he were walking closer and closer to the pit of darkness, although ironically, the artificial lights in what seemed to be the Barheim passage started to get brighter and more abundant in the broken path. He noticed something else too. Despite the thickening mist and the more frightening fiends that lurked in that area, it also seemed as though the surroundings were becoming more… he could not quite put a finger to it, but somehow he was starting to feel comforted. He could no longer hear the low tones of the hollow and unmoving space around him. Somehow he could hear sounds of a higher pitch; it almost seemed like small bells ringing together at the same time, emitting energy of some sort and livening up the eerie place. Magicks. He knew very little about the subject matter but he heard hunters from distant lands talk about it. Perhaps this place held not only thick mist but hid age-old magicites as well.

Perhaps the old hunters in the coast were telling the truth after all, he suddenly realized as he felt the pain in his arm subside and the energy rushing once more to his veins. These mystical rocks had so much energy and every living being could potentially harness it. Could he have been in a different situation, he would have studied the rocks or at least obtained a piece for himself. Surely the other hunters would be amazed at this discovery.

Yet he did not have time for that now, he thought, as he narrowed his eyes to look around and plan his route. The magicites might have healed him slightly yet he knew it would do him no good to engage in more random encounters. Instead he decided to move forward to get as far as he could without having to fight.

At first he wanted to move forward, hoping he might arrive somewhere after crossing another well-lit bridge. Yet after crossing more than three of these things without arriving anywhere, his instincts told him to try another path. He looked around and saw that to his left was another area. It was hard to notice it at first glance because it did not seem to belong to the well-lit path. The area was dark and the ground was not tiled. Whoever made the Barheim passage must have missed this area. He then moved towards it and was surprised when the area still seemed as bright as the tiled path. Yet the light did not come from the artificial lampposts for there was none in sight. The light actually came from what seemed to be …minerals… lining the whole area. Magicites. So this was how they looked like, he thought. The ringing sounded to get louder and was starting to become unpleasant. He walked around some more, carefully moving against the rocks.

He reached what seemed to be a peak and he managed to look around. After seeing that the area was empty and not even a fiend was in sight, he decided to turn back and explore his other options. Yet before he could even step down from where he stood, he saw something as he scanned the area one last time. He saw it… or rather, her, lying in the ground, not too far away.

Without even thinking, he rushed down to be by her side, a bit panicked as she was so still and unmoving. He knelt down beside her, shaking her hesitantly at first, not knowing if she were hurt or not, or if his actions might hurt her more.

"Amalia…" he hissed, and still she did not move. When she did not stir, he held both of her shoulders and shook her harder.

Her head stooped down to one side and he felt the blood drain away from his face. Amalia… she can't possibly be…dea…

She groaned slightly, almost inaudibly, and Amon quickly let out the breath he didn't know he was holding in.

"Amalia! Are you all right? Come on, let's get out of here," he whispered to her as he placed one arm under her knees. But to his utter surprise, she suddenly pushed him away so hard that he actually fell on the ground. To think she looked half dead mere seconds ago!

"Amalia! It's me, it's Amon!" he quickly scrambled to his feet when he saw her get up, clutching her head as if she were in pain, "Amalia!"

"Stop calling me that!" she snapped back at him, her voice filled with anger. She hugged herself as she grimaced, looking like she wanted to cry yet her eyes burned with fire.

"What's wrong with you? We haven't got much time. We have to go…"

"No!"

"Amalia!"

"Stop it. Stop it ruffian," she exclaimed, pushing him away once more. "I am Ashelia… I am Ashelia."

Ashelia. The Queen of Dalmasca? Had the magicites warped her mind? "It doesn't matter, let's go."

"No!" she resisted his grasp and managed to break away. Amon was taken aback, feeling the pain in his arm once more. Amalia was Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca… the warrior queen? Now it made sense to him, as he saw how strong she seemed to be. However, as he continued to look at her, she still had that agitated expression. It was the same expression he saw… weeks ago, as Basch lay wounded in the Phon Coast. Inside, she was in pain, so much pain.

"Just let me help you." He stretched out his arm to her once more.

"No…" she then touched her head with shaking hands, "No… I can't…"

"Amalia…"

"That's right. She cannot come with you." He was surprised to hear another voice behind him. He turned around quickly to see an old man, holding what seemed to be a bright piece of mineral in his hands. He had a wicked smile on his face and his eyes… he had the same eyes as the undead.

Amon impulsively grabbed on to Ashe's arm and forcefully pulled her behind him, as he drew out his scimitar. He knew something was wrong… so very wrong. He looked around, trying to form an escape route yet…

"How pleasant, a guest to see the main event?" the man raised his other hand and a dark ball of energy formed in his palm. Fearing the worst, Amon grabbed on to Ashe, hoping to tackle her to the ground, yet before he could even move his feet, he suddenly felt the ground shaking beneath him and before he knew it he was falling… falling…

"Amon!" he heard her shrill scream… just before everything around him turned black.

* * *

_Annals of History – King Raithwall (4 of 235)_

_Who would have thought that the Dynast King Raithwall was actually quite sentimental? More importantly, who would have thought that the very person the Occuria trusted was actually just as cunning and just as good in plotting as the gods that empowered him were? _

_Perhaps great things really do come from small beginnings, and this was something that was in old Raithwall's mind, ages ago, before he even started harnessing the power of the nethicites, before he even started uniting Ivalice._

_To think mere specks of dust could give rise to something much more. It all began with tiny particles that arose from the king's cutting of shards out of the sun-cryst ages ago. In the process of creating the Dawn, Midlight and Dusk shards, small particles came off as a residue. But being the meticulous man that he was, the king carefully obtained the littlest particle and speck from the god-given gifts and kept them close – somehow giving importance to the very thing that supposedly gave him power. Surely, the garifs before him must have been as careful, yet his care for the shards, and the particles thereof was far greater – perhaps because he foresaw the need for it someday. _

_Soon when the Occuria were pleased with him and trusted him enough to let him do his bidding, he started working on another project – and he used the residue of the shards to create the early forms of what would later on be known as manufacted nethicite. The lands of Ivalice were rich, and many secrets as well as treasures had been embedded within. By harnessing the power of the magicites, tiny pieces of nethicites (deifacted or manufacted) could be powered up, almost like a plate of steel getting sharpened to have a cutting edge. Tiny pieces somehow get charged over time until it comes to a point where the particle becomes more potent than one could ever imagine. A mere speck is transformed to something more. Particles of a deifacted nethicite – almost becomes a diamond in the rough – a new gem of power altogether. _

_Perhaps the Dynast King wanted power for himself – something he could control even without the Occuria's help. Little did he know that the small experiment he had ventured on ages ago could be so powerful – almost powerful enough to rival that of the deifacted nethicite's supposed power. The pieces could function even without the Sun cryst and not even the Occuria anticipated that it could actually happen. _

_He bound the powers of the nethicite with Ivalice's naturally occurring magicite, thus making it more potent by multiplying its energy. Yet he was not as interested in power as he was interested in keeping order and ensuring the future of his descendants. What is power after all without a capable ruler? In order to control his creation's power and to ensure that it could be harnessed or stopped properly, he added another element – his own blood. Nothing could trigger a wish more than passionate feelings - and blood could not be warm and piercing without this. Having absolute faith on his descendants, he deemed that absolute conviction and the intensity of one's beliefs could make one act with no regrets. To act with no regrets, one must discern carefully to choose the right thing to do at a given situation. _

_Thinking that he must look ahead, he placed all his faith on his descendants – those who would inherit not only his kingdom but his blood as well. He was confident enough to think that the blood that burned in his veins would be potent enough – powerful enough to keep the pyre aflame. But somehow he was still cautious. After seeing eventually how misleading feelings could be and how helpless man is without a clear mind, he decided that the thing he created was far too dangerous than he intended it to be. Anger, confusion, pain – these feelings have driven men to insanity. Love, though pure and great could still be destructive. Therefore, he realized that he must keep his creation in the depths of the earth – to keep it far even from his descendants' grasp. Perhaps Raithwall's creation could only be fully harnessed by the one who is most steadfast and persevering – one who has a burning wish in his heart, a wish so great that it is worth dying for. _

* * *

"What have you done?" Ashe fell down to her knees, desperately searching the place where Amon fell.

"Oh, I have been doing some random things," the old man said almost nonchalantly, "like ushering more guests to our little show. Unfortunately, we would have to do this sooner than I hoped to."

She noticed how the stone in his hands glowed and she instinctively moved back. "Why are you doing this…"

"Ashelia, Ashelia," he muttered as grabbed her arm and pulled her back to her feet. "You ask too many questions. Just do as you are told."

"No!" she closed her eyes, hoping to summon an esper yet more images and voices plagued her mind and she was unable to concentrate. "Stop… make it stop…"

"Confusion can amount to nothing but chaos so just listen to me Ashelia. If you want to end it all, then do it." He held her hand tightly, pressing into her palm until her skin cracked and started to bleed. Then he placed the stone in her hands, "Go. Wish for your destruction. End it. Then it will stop."

The stone glowed even brighter as she held it in her hands, her blood adding a crimson hue. She hoped to throw it away yet she felt strong magicks binding her with it, making her unable to let go.

"What are you waiting for Ashelia…" he said to her, almost tauntingly. He then took a step back and laughed loudly, "Only you could stop it. Stop it now. Wish for it all to end."

She shook slightly, feeling her strength fading away. Everything started to fade away. She could not even feel the boulders shaking or the previously unmoving waters rippling. Suddenly she just wanted everything to stop. Stop this pain; stop this confusion. She wished she could stop the beating of her heart. Each pump, each second caused her pain, caused her heartbreak. How could her feelings cause her so much turmoil? Feelings, feelings so insignificant yet seemingly so pure.

"No!" She then heard a familiar voice in the middle of all the chaos. She opened her eyes ever so slightly and saw … him…making his way towards her – just when she stopped calling for him, just when she wished never to see him again.

"Basch," she gasped, was this another dream? Yet as he got closer, she could almost feel herself wanting to run to him.

She failed to notice everything else, gunshots, screams, ground shaking, spears clashing.

He was just suddenly there, holding her. "Highness."

She would have slapped him if she could, yet it still it did not seem enough for everything that he had done to her. For all the fear, the joy, the sadness… "You… everything that has happened… I …"she stopped speaking as she felt her knees buckling and pain suddenly shooting through her whole body.

Before her was the man who plagued her mind the most, filling it with convoluted emotions that shook her to the core. He protected her when she was a child, and taught her how to survive. He was said to have killed her father, and disappeared from her life just when she needed him the most. When she finally thought that she no longer needed him, he proved her wrong by showing up in her life once more. He accepted her hatred willingly, though he seemed to reject her affection. He left her once more… he left her, and he did not look like he _wanted_ to stay, though she needed him, though she thought that he needed her too… He made her feel so weak; he made her feel so incomplete.

"How could you do this to me Basch?" she managed to speak out once more, as she finally let the tears fall from her eyes. "You wound me, you save me, you heal me. Then you make me feel the pain all over again…"

"Highness," he held her closer to himself, as he tried to pry her hands away from the stone.

"No… it will destroy you as well…" she curled up, avoiding him, "you've already destroyed me. How could you do this to me Basch?" Yet she felt his arms continuing to tighten around her, "You make me hate you… continue to hate you… then suddenly you make me feel … make me live a life that I could never have. You've hurt me so… and yet, I still yearn for you?"

"Ashe…"

"Why Basch…? It never was mine, was it? Was it?"

"You have my life. I'd give it to you, right now. Let me have your pain, just let go."

"No… No I cannot…" she finally looked up to face him, her eyes fully focused on his, "I cannot."

She had an urge to hurt him, yet at the same time she could not bear it. For once she had a clear thought in her mind. She would not want to see him hurt even more. Surely this pain she had was almost as much as he had endured. But she wondered if it had been from the same cause. Did he possibly feel it in his heart as well?

"Then I won't let you die," he shouted at her, and for once, she saw tears in his own eyes. "Do you hear me? I would not let you end it all, not alone. If you'd wish to die, I would have to die first"

"No," she stopped struggling, as she was finally torn between holding on to him and running away. She did not want him to die. She hated him for hurting her, but even so she did not want him to die because… because… "Why are you so stubborn? Why do you linger and continue to confuse me and go against my wishes…you never really loved me…"

"Goddamn it woman…" He shook her then, as he felt his own vulnerability with the pain in his heart suddenly exploding, shaking him to the core. "It is because I love you…and I blame myself for everything that has happened. Let go Ashelia. It's not worth it. I'm not worth it. It was all my fault."

"Basch…"

"My life… those memories. That's all I have. That's all I can give you. That's all I'm worth." He managed to hold her wrists, yet she heard the way he groaned under his breath, the stone's magicks may be too much for him. Still, he continued to hold on, desperately trying to pry the stone away from her grasp. "So let go, all right? That's all a selfish man like me deserves. That's all you could do to ease the pain."

She can't do it. Why… why must things be this way? Why must everything be a mess in her head, in her heart? Everything was just clashing, and nothing seemed to be in place. Joy, pain, sadness, anger, why was everything just gushing all together?

He grabbed on the stone once more and a big spark came off. She felt her knees buckling once more and she was powerless as Basch fell on the ground writhing in pain.

"Basch… I can't… I must… I must end it …."

"No!" he managed to hold on to her feet even as he continued to thrash about in the ground.

The stone in her hands started to get brighter. She could feel it. It was about to end… very soon.

The light started to blind her. Her head fell back and she closed her eyes, starting to feel calmness creep in to her once more. Was the end about to come soon? Was she going to die? The noise faded, her feelings numbed. Suddenly there was nothing once more. She felt something tug at her hands. Feeling her strength completely drained, she just opened her palms and the stone was suddenly plucked out of her grasp. It was almost like it floated away. She did it after all. She let go.

And suddenly, she was at peace…

But not for long.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Happy Easter everyone!!

I updated sooner this time! Hope that was enough to make amends with what I did last time when I disappeared for months. Anyway. I actually forgot to do something last chapter. I'm sorry, I was in tralaland then. GUYS you absolutely HAVE to read Baschashe's fic "Dance with me". Seriously. If you liked the earlier chapters of this fic, you would absolutely adore her fic. Thank you so much for writing it!! You're the best! I know I didn't really deserve it and all, and in fact it would be an honor for ME to have it associated to my fic. Thank you so much.

Erm… Perhaps I got a bit carried away with this chapter, but then all good things have to end right? But don't worry. We still have a long road ahead of us. I hope you guys would stick around and continue to tolerate my suckiness and insanity. Even just for the educational part at the end of the story!

So here it is. I've been skipping trivia time lately. Hmm… you guys might have noticed it already but Basch has another important element in his clothes other than the infamous potholder. In fact, one fansite even acknowledges it. It's no other than the apple green tassel! See, in Chinese art class, my teacher said that the Tassel represents beginnings. And it is bound at the top then open ended because it represents something like starting a mission then hoping to accomplish it later on with as much fervor as when you started. Perhaps that is why it's found in the cap of togas when people graduate and stuff. It represents new beginnings and hoping to be productive later on in life with what you've learned. Hmmmm… So what does that say about dear ol' Cap'n Basch?

Anyway, I'll try very hard to update asap. Thanks so much you guys


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

He moved with the imperial soldiers and mages around him like a fortress, and yet the young emperor still felt the fear in his heart. It was his first time to enter the Barheim Passage, with a full entourage escorting him no less, yet still it did not reduce the apprehension he felt. No, this was not like those other times any more – it was no longer like that time he fooled Gabranth and left his care, only to explore the Lhusu Mines against his wishes. Although Basch forbade him to go just the same, his being in the Barheim Passage was no longer an act of disobedience. Frankly, if he had a choice, he would much rather wait for his friends in the palace, as his guardian had ordered (quite sternly in fact.) Yet the worry in his heart could not subside, and the fact that he seemed so far away and so helpless made him worry even more. Penelo, Vaan, Balthier, Fran, Basch and Ashe, more than anything, they were all his friends after all. To think they were against something so dangerous yet they knew almost nothing about made matters even worse. He could not go on resting, waiting in the sheltered palace. There was just too much at stake.

He rallied his troop minutes after his friends left for the Garamsythe waterway. He then flew to the Estersands to avoid the other soldiers Basch ordered to keep an eye on him. He could not just sit idly while he knew what could possibly take place. Nevertheless, he took as much time as he could to prepare for the possibilities. He already spent the past few weeks preparing for this day, now that he thought about it, although he did not expect Ashe to be captured as she was now. It complicated a lot of things, and now he had to retrace everything and start all over. Many unexpected things are continuing to unfold before him, in fact the monsters – or the lack thereof in the Barheim passage was a pleasant, albeit eerie, almost frightening surprise. They have been walking for several minutes now, yet no monsters seemed to be present. It was almost as if the creatures were hiding.

"The mastiffs are behaving oddly my lord; maybe they are feeling more tremors in the ground. Another quake might set in," one of the imperial judges spoke behind him.

"Another quake would not be such a bother. I am more anxious about the lack of fiends. Would the mastiffs sense it? Would they know if there is an unseen enemy ahead?" Larsa asked the question, and suddenly regretted it, figuring how stupid and cowardly it sounded.

"They are well trained my lord, surely they would recognize the threat. I am not very superstitious, but the mages claim that the mastiffs sense even the presence of the undead."

"The undead…" Larsa mumbled, mostly to himself, as he pushed himself to move further.

Oddly, while he felt intense dread for Ashe's captor, he still could not stop himself from pitying the man. He was probably no better than the undead and yet his family, his countrymen's past misdeeds were partly to blame for warping his once sound and even brilliant mind.

Knowing more about this mysterious man was not a very easy task. He spent several weeks with Vaan and Penelo, searching for clues and leads. They traveled from coast to coast, looking for answers without having any questions in the first place. They had been completely clueless. Fortunately, their search led them to the Nablina fortress, where one of Vaan's old acquaintances shed light into this mystery. Morgen, an old man he helped in one of his hunts, managed to provide them with the captor's name. It was Aitor, or Aitor the mineralogist to be exact. He and Morgen were contemporaries, back in the glorious days of the kingdom of Nabradia. Morgen and his sons worked with different machines and contraptions, whereas Aitor studied the compositions of different materials, metals, minerals, and had a knack with chemicals as well. But after the war and the eventual fall of Nabudis, he, like most of the other Nalbinites lost his livelihood, his family, and his home. Aitor crumbled, perhaps just like how Morgen's son had succumbed to the darkness, with his son's machine left to cause destruction as it moved without guidance that Vaan and the others had to destroy it in Nabudis. There were others like himself who held on to their destructive sentiments. Forgiveness was not something they could find in their hearts. The way the different states have been working more closely together fueled their anger for they still could not forget the crimes committed in the past. They could not accept his own promise of peace. It did not surprise him as much to know how someone could be hell-bent to destroy his homeland. In fact, despite all the alliances he formed with the other nations, despite the fact that he and Ashe managed to be on friendlier terms, many still harbored anger and resentment against him. Yet he could not blame everything on his ancestors, his father or his brothers. The past was behind them, and it was now his task to right the wrongs.

It helped that the Nalbinite insurgents' own dead spoke for them instead. The loved ones who had perished and had succumbed to the mist had but one last wish – to be in peace. Vaan never really believed this theory of his, and just insisted that the journal fragments they obtained from the undead in Nabudis were nothing but good and timely finds. But in any case, the passages told them of a power they never knew existed, one that Aitor knew himself from years of research. The Nalbinites they talked to believed that it was nothing but a legend, one that sailors from distant lands started – yet now he personally knew it was real.

The power was hidden deep down in the abyss of the Nalbina Dungeons. Now more theories as to why the dungeon was built there in the first place are surfacing. But more than that, what was more troubling than the presence of the nethicites was the way it supposedly worked in the first place. He managed to talk to different scientists from the Draklor Laboratory and not one of them had a straight answer. The nethicites found deep in the Barheim passage, under the Nalbina Dungeons was one of those things science simply cannot explain. Perhaps the Nalbinites were right, that Raithwall's nethicites were somehow legendary.

Raithwall's nethicites had powers comparable to the sun cryst; it was after all indirectly derived from it. The journal fragments they obtained narrated its secret, almost like a fictional story, yet his consultation with the academicians and the scientists in Archades made him arrive to the conclusion that it was possible. He knew how potent the manufacted nethicites already were, to think that Raithwall's nethicites had the power of age-old magicites bound into them, the power it had, it could be real.

As a student, he was taught how the Archadian scientists looked for ways to harness the power of the nethicites. The manufacted ones they extracted from the different mines are carefully weighed and placed on machines to regulate the amount of energy it emits. Some accidents have also occurred, much like what happened in Shiva when Judge Ghis underestimated the dawn shard's power. Of course the damage was colossal, due to the fact that the dawn shard was actually deifacted and not merely manufacted. The midlight shard might have been a big accident as well, for while he knew that Doctor Cid was curious about its power, surely no man was cruel enough to have the desire to destroy the land and its people in such a way.

Raithwall's nethicite was partly deifacted and partly manufacted. The magicites that gave it power were surely also much more potent than those found in the Lhusu mines. The Barheim Passage is known for its thick mist and strong magicks. Keeping the nethicites there for centuries would surely fuel it with so much potent energy that it was capable of utter destruction. And yet, unlike the other nethciites, machines need not be used to harness its power. If the legends truly were real, then Raithwall's blood – the same blood that now flows in Ashe's veins, would be enough to trigger it. This was the part of the story that he couldn't quite grasp. Years of study and countless of books made him learn, or rather, did not make him learn that it was possible. Yet now he had no choice but to believe – for it was the only way for him act with such urgency and such resolve to keep Ashe away from harm's way. After all, without her Raithwall's nethicite would be nothing but an old rock. Her blood and her resolve would be the integral parts of the formula.

Perhaps that was the reason why she was robbed of her memories. Surely the queen, in her right mind, would not do anything to imperil her people, or anyone in Ivalice for that matter. He knew that the drug produced in the Draklor Laboratory was originally developed for the purposes of brainwashing. Yet the chemists never figured out how to reach the ends it stated. This was the reason why the project was dropped. In the investigation conducted by 9th bureau, no apparent leakage was traced, yet it was still possible that Aitor developed his own version of the drug, using only some manuscripts – passed off as supposed urban legends that have already been published in underground circles. But regarding the issue on whether or not he managed to produce the same cure, or even created the mechanism to actually control the mind of the victim – Larsa was still unsure of the answers.

"My lord, the passage ends here," the imperial judge spoke once more behind him, jarring him away from his thoughts, "We have crossed about six junctions. Surely we are already deep inside the passage."

Larsa looked up and saw the bright lights illuminating the crumbling path. The artificial lights could not hide the fact that they were already deep inside as his soldier mentioned. Suddenly, he thought about taking extra precautions. "The medics and the backup team, they are awaiting further orders by the entrances of the passage, am I correct?" The soldier nodded and Larsa pondered on whether or not he should send the mastiffs to fetch them already. Yet no imminent danger seemed to present. Maybe he was just being too tense. "They were giving instructions that if we would not be out in hour, they would follow immediately, am I correct?"

The soldier nodded again, and suddenly he thought if the waiting time had been too long. Time seemed to move so slowly, yet he realized that thirty minutes had already passed.

"Sire! We found the hidden path. This area seemed to be untouched by the passage's construction." One of the mages in the rear suddenly spoke. Larsa waved his hand to let the troop know that they were moving. Everyone had their weapons in check and ready to attack.

He felt his heart beating wildly in his chest. The unnerving silence was not helping at all. He wished he heard some sounds of activity… like Basch's sword swinging, or Vaan's spear piercing metal, Penelo casting cures, Baltheir's gunshots, Fran's arrows cutting through the air... but no, there was nothing.

"This might not be the right place after all…" the soldier spoke, his voice trembling. Larsa could not blame the man for he too was starting to be frightened, but more for his friends' sake.

The magicites were all over the place, sparkling brightly like stars in midnight sky. But still he could not appreciate its beauty for he was getting more and more pessimistic each second. If his hunches were right and the earthquake they felt sometime ago originated from here, then something unfortunate must have truly happened. Even the undead have been wiped out. The passage… the passage was cleared of everything.

Had he been too late? Now everything was silent, and Larsa almost hoped he was in the wrong place.

That was until he heard… crying?

Someone was weeping… an old man…

Larsa, without even thinking leapt up to his feet and made his way down the boulders. The imperial soldiers scrambled about, some even shouting for him to halt yet they moved to escort their master and to protect him from harm.

But Larsa knew he was far from harm. The weeping man seemed to be helpless, even more helpless than he was.

He moved closer and closer…. until he froze on his tracks.

Everyone… everyone was….

"Penelo!" Larsa shouted as he moved to her, only to jump and go closer to another unconscious figure, "Vaan!" Panicked, he fumbled with the potions in knapsack. "Mages! Hurry up! Heal the injured!"

His soldiers were suddenly scattered about, chanting spells and preparing stretchers. He shook as he stood, and suddenly he realized he lost his ability to count. One … two… three… he shook his head, fighting back his tears. Everyone seemed so pale… and their prone positions made it look as if they were… one… two… three… four… five… six. Six. There were six of them. They were going to be all right, Larsa mumbled to himself, he got there on time, they were going to be all right…

More soldiers came from behind him and suddenly straightened out Vaan and Penelo in front of him. They started to check their vital signs while the medics carefully touched their limbs to look for any fractures. Still shaking, Larsa thought he was starting to be more of a bother that he decided to walk away.

"You!" the boy could not even recognize his own menacing voice. He lunged for the old man and almost made him topple over.

Yet Aitor seemed not to care, in fact, he looked as if he did not know Larsa and the soldiers had been there in the first place. He just continued to weep, looking like he was starting to lose his sanity completely.

"What have you done to them?" Larsa asked, expecting not to get an answer. He looked behind him and saw some improvement in his friends. Balthier seemed to have regained consciousness, and Fran already managed to sit up with the help of an imperial guard. Vaan and Penelo were still out cold, yet the mages were still chanting spells around them. Basch and Ashe… they were too far from him… all he saw was his guardian's sword lodged in the ground behind the circle of mages in the far corner of the area.

"What have I done…" Aitor suddenly mumbled, as he knelt down on the ground. Larsa suddenly realized how he was bloodied all over as the old man moved closer to the ground and hit it with his fist. Behind him were several mangled contraptions, not unlike those Doctor Cid have developed over the years. Perhaps they were all engaged in battle minutes ago.

"It's too late for repentance now. If anything happened to them… I would not be able to forgive you…"

The old man continued to cry, shaking spasmodically from time to time. "I might have killed him… I did not mean to do it… I swear I … I did not mean to do it."

Him? Killed? "Who do you speak of?" suddenly a bit panicked, he turned and moved closer to have a better vantage point of his friends. He heard Penelo groaning and Vaan seemed to stir as well. Ashe was already in a stretcher and was getting carried closer towards the crowd. Basch…

"I did not know… I swear I did not know… I might have killed him." Aitor mumbled in between sobs, and the young emperor suddenly felt his body tensing up.

"How is the judge magister?" Larsa shouted as one of the soldiers made his way towards him. He looked back and still saw the circle of mages around him.

The soldier looked reluctantly at the circle as well, and then moved closer to his liege to give his report. "Still unconscious sir. He has a broken arm and other injuries beneath his armor…and overall, he seems to be in a worse shape than the rest."

"I am sorry your majesty… I might have killed him."

Larsa looked back at the old man, noting faintly how he seemed to be talking to him while at the same time still not acknowledge his presence. Perhaps he was not truly talking to him in the first place?

"Keep an eye on him!" Larsa barked the orders to the other soldiers nearby, "But do not kill him."

The boy then ran to where Basch was, praying that he was not the man Aitor was talking about. The mages continued to loom over his guardian, and some, he noted were kneeling down and trying to give him some remedies and elixirs. Yet still he seemed to be unmoving. He squeezed in closer to have a closer look, and suddenly he froze. Memories of Gabranth in his deathbed plagued him immediately and all he could do was stagger back and place his hand on his speeding heart. No… it would not happen again, he chanted to himself, Basch was not going to die… he was not going to die…

He looked away; blinking back the tears he did not know were already falling from his eyes. He looked away, anywhere, just to forget the lingering image in his mind. One of the soldiers approached him and reported on how everyone else was doing, what was being done to have them transported as quickly as possible back to the palace… and yet the words just seemed to fall flat in his ears. _I might have killed him_…Aitor's words continued to haunt him, even as he moved towards the end of the boulder to look at the moving waters below. Light seemed to emanate from its depths and the lagoon seemed to move with a current. These details did not seem to matter, but somehow this kept his thoughts away from Basch and the thought of him dying and so Larsa continued to look further.

"That's right… where is Raithwall's Nethicite?" Larsa muttered as he looked around, while his instincts told him that it was the source of the glowing light under the waters below. "The queen, did she have anything?"

The soldier behind him was suddenly alert as he realized his liege just asked him a question, "No sire, none that I know of."

"Blood… was she … was she bleeding anywhere? Did she have a wound or… an abrasion…?"

"In her hands, if I remember correctly my lord. The medics wrapped her hand in bandages before they moved her back to the palace."

So it was used, Larsa thought, yet it was possible that she never got a hold of it in the first place. But then again… he moved his feet and realized that there was a ripped piece of cloth in the ground … a piece of coarse cloth… like a dried hide with some bloodstains on it. He picked it up and examined it, noting faintly that it was still damp. He looked behind him and saw the moving waters once more, and at the back of his mind, he knew he was missing something.

He marched towards Aitor with the bloodied cloth on his hand. "This cloth… was it his?"

The old man looked up slowly and glanced at the cloth in Larsa's hands. He grimaced as he hesitantly touched it. He then bent his head and let it touch the ground, almost as if he were genuflecting.

"I am sorry… I did not know… I am sorry…"

Larsa withdrew his hand and looked at the bloodied cloth himself. "Search the area. Look for any other survivors. I want you to do this thoroughly." The soldiers scrambled about once more, doing their master's bidding.

Larsa moved closer to the old man and gave him a high potion. Aitor looked at his hand, a bit dumbfounded, unsure of what to do.

"Take it. You are wounded old man,"

"You… you are the Solidor boy?" Aitor whispered, as if he could not believe himself. For the first time, his eyes were suddenly focused on him, as if he finally acknowledged that he existed. "An enemy would still think of my welfare… even after what I have done to him…?"

What was the reason for his concern? How could a man so focused on destruction be so … miserable after the supposed death of a person who might not have even been present? Larsa could not understand what the man was talking about. Perhaps he was completely losing it.

"He helped them… his blood saved them…. what I wanted was wrong… so wrong from the start. I would not be putting the dead in peace… I was wrong… so horribly wrong…"

"Who is he?" Larsa tried to get answers once more, "Who is this man you talk about?"

Aitor slumped back, lying unceremoniously in the ground. His face seemed to be contorted in pain, and for a while, Larsa was afraid he was getting a heart attack. "What does it matter… we all thought him to be dead… and now … Now it seems like I killed him. The nethicite killed him."

Him? Who? Larsa was starting to lose his patience when suddenly Aitor stopped crying altogether… only to laugh… a loud empty laugh that seemed to echo in the cold walls.

He had gone completely mad.

"Take him away… bring him to the asylum immediately" Larsa ordered halfheartedly to the other soldiers that were left behind.

To think that everything ended with another confusing question.

He moved back to where Basch was with the mages and medics still trying to heal him.

He slumped down tiredly and waited for a response. Perhaps he had some answers.

Yet in the end, he realized it did not matter. All he wanted now was for his guardian to be alive and well.

* * *

Author's Notes:

EVERYONE! I missed all of you. Seriously. I'm sorry for being away for so long. (Internet deprived for a month. Try beating that.)There was death in the family and my own impending doom is approaching because I've gone back to school. But anyway, because I owe it to those people who said they are waiting for the next chapter, here it is.

I really did not intend to write this chapter. In fact, this is a clarificatory chapter. (maybe that's why it's relatively short) I'm really sorry for the confusion in Chapter 12. I hope this clarified some stuff (and I certainly hope it didn't make matters worse.) Thank you so much for your comments and suggestions. Without it, I wouldn't know how to go on with this thing.

Anyway, I'll cut the author's notes short for this chapter. I'm sooooooooo behind in my reading list(both for FF12 fics and my schoolwork! Haha!) I would try my best to post chapt 14 (or what had originally been chapter 13) as soon as possible (I mean it!! I'm halfway through it). Again, thank you to those who are still not losing their patience with me. I'm so sorry! I would work harder! I promise! Thank you to all those who read, and thank you also to those who reviewed and gave suggestions. Thank you, thank you!


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

"No, not yet,"

_His grip was firm when he touched her shoulder only to make her face the other direction. He led her a few steps away from what he was doing and left her there mere seconds later. "Wait just a little bit longer."_

_She decided to comply while thinking to herself how she never expected him to be the playful sort after spending so much time with him in the peaceful coast. She knew he was a grown man of several decades yet he sure acted younger, much much younger at that moment. Surprisingly, it did not annoy her either, in fact it made him more endearing. _

_He had been working on whatever he was preoccupied with at the moment since noontime. After lunch, he told her that he was going to do something by the shoreline, or what technically had been their backyard, and left immediately after. She noticed that he left his sword under the bed, and the coast seemed quiet enough – the other hunters were probably off working or resting. So she concluded that whatever he must have been up to was something he does not usually do. She waited for a while, thinking he was probably up to nothing extraordinary yet when her boredom started to get the better of her, she finally decided to look at him from their window. She saw him working alone without any tools or any other object but sand and the seawater and this was enough to pique her curiosity. He seemed very serious about the task too, as he almost seemed as though he were scowling under the sunlight. Yet when she tried to approach him, he awkwardly tried to push her away; telling her it was a "surprise". _

"_Come on Basch, not even a peep?" she squeaked, forcing herself to sound more eager than she truly was just to make him give in. What was he really up to; she tried to ask herself as she thought of the possibilities. At the moment she felt like a child whose patience was getting tested, trying to see how long she could last. Her "playmate" was perhaps playing the part as well, as he tried to come up with something worthy enough to be called a surprise. She wondered if they had spent such leisurely moments together like this one when she was much younger, for if they never did, she was glad she was actually experiencing it now. _

_She heard him clap his hands as if to remove the dirt in them. It took several more seconds until he finally said, "All right, it's done." She never realized how excited she truly was until he said the words out loud. She twirled, squinting from the bright sunlight at first, but after a while, she finally narrowed her eyes to see what Basch had been up to. _

"_It's a…" she could not understand it at first for it seemed like nothing but a big chunk of sand… Actually it looked more like a big lump, or even a hill. _

"_Come here," he then extended his arm towards her direction. She took it confusedly and moved closer to his side, "Look at it from here." _

_Sure enough, the hill seemed to have more form from that vantage point and she was able to appreciate it more. "It's a fortress?"_

"_No," he shook his head, chuckling, "It's a sandcastle." _

"_Oh, a sandcastle!" She echoed, as she went down on her knees to look at it more closely. There were several pillars and some cylinders made of sand that seemed to have been placed one after the other. The tips were a bit pointed and what seemed to be a red flag was lodged at the end. _

_She moved a bit when Basch knelt down beside her, seeming to look at her attentively for a reaction. She glanced towards his direction, not really knowing what to say. She had an urge to laugh when she saw the dirt in his face and what seemed to be mud in his shirt. Although she wanted to scold him for being as tidy as a seven year old, it amused her to think that for a while he did act like he were seven years old. He was still looking at her expectantly and she was still at a loss as to what she should tell him… that was until a thought suddenly crossed her mind._

"_It is… Interesting," she said, trying hard to keep a straight face as she tried to copy his neutral expression. She touched her chin and nodded appreciatively while still keeping her stern expression. She could not hold back her laughter when he grunted and shook his head, seemingly torn between trying to look indignant and trying to look forlorn. She then slapped his arm playfully and said, "Serves you right!"_

_He shot her a glance and pursed his lips slightly, looking as if he were trying not to smile "I'm sorry, I tried to stick to the Galtean architecture but it seems I need more training to get it right…" he mumbled seriously, though he seemed to be having a hard time keeping a straight face himself._

"_First a knight, then a judge and now an architect? My my Basch, your versatility amazes me," she shook her head as she looked more closely at his masterpiece. "I think I would like to have a tour of this sandcastle of yours," she said as she looked at him a bit challengingly, knowing that creativity was not really one of his strong points. _

"_A tour?"_

"_Well yes! Show me around the castle please?"_

"_Well…" he started, seeming to take up the challenge. He coughed self-consciously and finally pointed at one side of the castle. "Here are the chocobo stables, see, there is some space to plant some gyshal greens. There is more space on the other side of the castle. Here the breeders could keep their cattle and some other people could plant more produce."_

_She nodded, showing her attentiveness as he stopped to look at her. He seemed hesitant at first yet he nevertheless continued, "Then here is a back entrance to the castle," he continued as he pointed to the space below the actual sandcastle, "there is a path underground that is connected to the lake. You will not be able to see it because it's hidden of course." _

"_Oh I see," she nodded, somehow feeling happy for the improvement of his storytelling skills. "But what about the main castle? What is found in there?"_

_He stopped for a while as if to think, then he finally shrugged and looked back at her, "I honestly do not know. I was actually hoping you would do the necessary arrangements." _

_Her eyes widened, feigning an indignant expression, "Why would I do that? It is your castle after all," she replied, hoping he would not give up on the game so easily. _

"_Not exactly." His eyes shifted a little, looking as if he wanted to say something without knowing how to properly phrase it. _

"_What do you mean?" she asked encouragingly, prodding him to explain further._

"_I built the castle for you." He turned away from her as he bowed slightly, timidly, and suddenly Ashe realized how adorable he could have been when he was a little boy. "I built the castle for you; therefore you are at liberty to fix it as you please."_

"_A castle? For me?" _

_She knew something of castles. It had space, too much of it in fact. The walls were hard and cold. People would often come and go… monarchs, statesmen, servants, and soldiers. She knew she must have lived in one all her life. Although she could not remember the particulars of it, she knew it was mostly an empty place. _

_It was nothing like the castle before her now._

_Although it had no jewels, nor trimmings, although its walls were not made of concrete, it seemed to be the perfect place for her to live in. This was it. The castle that Basch built was home. _

"_No, I object," she smiled, trying to calm her heart thinking it would not be proper to be all sentimental now that they were playing a game, "It is not just mine. You built it, therefore it is ours." He looked at her warmly, and somehow she felt as though he understood. _

_Trying to keep her emotions in check, she then looked away and glanced back at the castle. "Here, I want this to be the scullery," she pointed at the lower right side of the castle, near what he said to be a space for planting produce. "I'll be overseeing everything of course. I'll see that the people inside the castle are fed and well." _

_He nodded, looking as if he had no plans of disagreeing, although he had a tell-tale expression in his face. _

"_I'll put the soldiers' quarters here. That way they could be the ones fed first. Of course you're their commander so you must be the first to eat." _

"_I would appreciate that very much. Thank you." He said almost solemnly that Ashe decided to let the matter slide. Surely Basch was starting to mean it when he said that he liked her cooking these days… _

"_Here I would like to have a garden, and here I would like to have a small chapel." She went on talking as she pointed at different parts of the sandcastle until she finally reached the tip. "Here's where our rooms should be. Here is the room for the king and the queen." _

"_The king and the queen?" _

"_Yes of course, that would be you and I." _

"_Well… I… I am no king," he still seemed to be playing the game yet he was slipping back into reality._

"_Of course you are," she said hurriedly, as she pulled his hand and held on to it tightly. "As far as I'm concerned, in our castle, you are the king. Why… you built it and I merely went in and fixed it all up." She gave him a look daring him to go against what she said, and sure enough, he merely kept quiet and let her go on. They were still after all playing the game, and she had lain out the rules. _

_He was the king. That was a role he never thought of before. As children he remembered how he and Noah played and how he was sometimes a bandit and sometimes a soldier. He was a wolf, a sorcerer, a doctor, a merchant, but never a king! What did kings do anyway? The knights fought, the doctors healed, the merchants traded… what did the king do… besides ruling over the people… besides marrying the queen…_

"_Where would the princes and the princesses stay?" she asked suddenly and he tried hard to focus on what was going on before him._

"_It is a small castle," was all he could say and he was glad his reply was good enough. Ashe's expression brightened up suddenly. _

"_All the better. They could stay with us then! And we could all be happy together." _

_Happy. Happiness. Together. Both Ashe and he. The mere thought was pleasant enough. _

_Her happiness was something he always thought of, yet personally, the word no longer had meaning or value. Perhaps it was because he was a simple man, and simple things could give him happiness. Then again, perhaps it was the other way around. He wished for impossible, seemingly unattainable things, which was why happiness, his happiness was nothing but a distant thought. How could he concern himself with such trivial things when he was incapable of living his own life now? He was Gabranth now and he had to do what was right. He lived. He carried out his duty in the end, thus he should be satisfied._

_But at that moment, he seemed to be Basch again, without actually being himself. Yet somehow the feelings, the thoughts, she… everything seemed true enough for him. In an instance such as this one, was he not entitled to think of his own happiness?_

_A life with her, perhaps, that would spell out happiness for him. A life where she could be his home, where they could build a home together – it did not need to be a castle, he did not need to be a king. _

_But what about Dalmasca, Archadia, Ivalice? What about Lord Rassler, Balthier, what about her feelings, her past, the memories she had forgotten?_

_What about Basch Von Ronsenburg, the man who killed the king, the man who no longer exists_

_Except for her._

"_Say Basch, how many princes and princesses would you like to have?"_

_He looked at her, startled by her question, and he quickly saw the mischievous glint in her eyes. _

_Happiness does not need to fully come into being to actually feel it …for he felt it, now, in his heart, now that he was with her, now that they played this game. _

"_A small family would be fine, I suppose," he replied, smiling, "about six or seven, thereabouts." _

"_Six or seven!" she gasped, as she looked at him incredulously. _

"_Well, I suppose it would be all right to have more princesses than the princes. So I would say around eight or so. Hmm…" he then held up his hands and looked as if he started to count. "That would total around fourteen, fifteen, sixteen?" _

"_You do know that they would be all legitimate, I hope."_

"_But of course!" her eyes were still wide and he did not know if she was still shocked or if she was starting to get angry, "Unless you wanted to adopt more, then of course once they get adopted, they would somehow be legitimate as well."_

"_You're impossible," she muttered as she playfully hurled a fistful of sand towards his direction. He easily avoided it and merely smiled in return. "Come on, let us eat dinner."_

"_Dinner? Is it not a bit too early for that?" he asked, as he still felt the sun shining overhead. _

"_Certainly," she chuckled as she stood up and dusted off her clothes, "But of course we would have to buy vegetables my lord, as well as oil and bread, among other things. Why, your scullery is empty!"_

_He stood up and went beside her, "You are right. The soldiers would need to be fed." _

"_Do not forget the princes and princesses!" she started walking away when suddenly she stopped and looked back at him. "But what about the sandcastle? Would it be all right there?"_

_He shrugged looking back at what he made himself, "We could not stay there forever either," he said almost nonchalantly. "If we are lucky, perhaps we could still look at it from our window as we eat dinner."_

"_All right."_

_Several hours passed, the sun had set and the tide had risen. The supposed couple found themselves seated by the window, looking at nothing but a dark sea._

"_It tastes nice," he started, trying to break the silence. She seemed gloomy since she discovered that the sandcastle had crumbled, and somehow he felt as though she was sadder than he should have been. "No, I think it's delicious." _

_She merely looked at him, gave him a wry smile and muttered a rather reluctant, "thank you."_

"_Really, it is." He added, hoping to cheer her up even just a little bit. He looked out once more and saw the empty space. The happiness in his heart dwindled and was instead replaced by a more bittersweet feeling. A sandcastle crumbles, and easily gets blown away by the wind or washed away by the tide. While it could be pleasing, or even quaint, in the end it does not last. It is transient, fleeting. It could only be sealed in a memory _

"_I'm sorry… I'm sorry I could only give you a sandcastle."_

_She looked at him once more, her eyes a deeper shade of blue. She seemed thoughtful, almost lonely, but suddenly a small smile crept into her face – then it bloomed and he saw the most beautiful sight he always wanted to see. _

"_Tomorrow, let us build another one. Together."_

_As he heard her words, he decided to let go, just this once. How many times had he tried to do this, years ago, in a quiet night in the barracks, or before a battle, or in his dark gloomy cage? This was the only instance when the feeling seemed so real. He might as well enjoy it than feel it slipping away. Perhaps he also deserved it, one way or another. _

"_Aye"_

* * *

It was not uncommon for him to wake up feeling pained all over. But somehow, the soreness he felt at that moment seemed to surpass whatever he felt before. He realized he was regaining his consciousness, without actually knowing how he lost it in the first place. All the details just seemed so insignificant because of the pain.

Suddenly he felt a pair of hands placed on his shoulders, almost as if shaking him to wakefulness. The grip was firm, almost painful, as sharp nails seemed to dig through his skin.

"Basch," he heard his name getting called out. The voice was soft yet insistent. It belonged to a woman… he knew her from somewhere… if only his mind would cease being foggy… "Basch," the woman called again, and he moved his lids some more when he felt well enough to open his eyes.

She let go of his shoulders as she saw him stir awake. At first she thought him to be stuck in another nightmare, but after she saw his lids moving, she actually felt quite relieved that he was finally regaining consciousness. He opened his eyes, squinting a bit to the light, and he groggily looked to his side and focused on her. He looked confused, and for a moment, he seemed to be a bit panicked. He opened his mouth as if to speak, yet no words came out. He was still probably not done waking up just yet. His mouth moved again, and after a while some sounds finally came out.

"Fran?" he felt something sting in his throat as he spoke with a hoarse voice. He closed his eyes once again not quite sure of where he was or what was happening. Without really thinking about it, he opened his eyes and tried to speak again. "Ashe."

The Viera's lips moved slightly, as if in a smile as she leaned down to make the injured man hear her more properly. "I was almost glad that you recognized me first, yet I was not too surprised when you asked about the queen next. She is well, if that is what you are asking. She visited you earlier, but you were still asleep."

Fran gave him some time to grasp what she had been saying as she silently observed him. She took it as a good sign when he started to move in his bed, after being so still for days. His face was still contorted in pain, but he seemed to get stronger as the minutes passed.

"We are in Rabanastre right now and you have been unconscious for four days. Help came just in time, and now, everyone is well. Thankfully your body decided it was well enough to wake up today," she placed her hand in the headboard of his bed and looked at him in an almost motherly way, "you humes are truly more susceptible to unwanted effects of magicks. But nevertheless, I knew you were resilient enough to overcome it somehow."

Basch took in his surroundings after finally being able to open his eyes without squinting due to the light. Talking still seemed to be an ordeal and he was glad that the usually quiet Viera was being kind enough to supply him with information. The pain was still present, although he noted that it was starting to subside, and he was more able to keep everything in check. His mind was starting to clear again, only to have torrents of questions flooding his whole being, that he did not know where to start.

Fran took her place back in the chair by Basch's bed, somehow feeling pleased that she decided to stay after all. She did not expect him to wake up under her watch. But nevertheless, she thought it was somehow a good thing. She may not know a lot of things about the man, but she knew, he was still, to her, what the humes would call a friend - and it pleased her to know that he was on his way to recovery.

"I'm sorry Fran… I might have inconvenienced you …"

"No, not at all. Do not think about such insignificant things. How are you feeling? Does it still pain you to speak?"

He nodded slightly. She offered to cast a healing spell on him then, but he merely moved his uninjured hand and told her that it was all right.

They were silent for a while, Fran, observing him and waiting in case he needed any help, and Basch, suddenly feeling awkward after remembering with great clarity what had just transpired.

It's over. It was all over. Yet he still could not believe it. He knew he was no longer trapped in an illusionary world, for the pain was more real than anything he could grasp. And yet, things still seem to be … too… different. It was as if he expected to wake up in the little house by the sea, with Ashe by his side. It was only now that reality started crashing back with a vengeance. They were back in Dalmasca. Ashe was queen once more, and he, he was back to being a Judge Magister.

Fran noted how Basch's expression changed. His breathing started to become a bit erratic as well. Perhaps it was no longer due to the pain. Perhaps things were starting to sink in.

The truth was that she remembered everything as well – in fact, she might have remembered more than she should have. Things seemed to fall into place when she first saw them together in the Phon Coast, and what she heard (albeit unintentionally) a few days ago was only the icing on the cake. The intensity of those words, those emotions, was something she had never seen before in the years she spent living with the humes. She knew about sadness, joy, anger and even love – but never in that light. It surprised her to see it in two people that she knew. It was even unexpected, now that she thought about it; and for a while she thought of how her sisters might have felt when she decided to leave the wood. This was exactly what she longed for, what she left the wood for. She was intrigued by the humes' ways. She yearned to know more, and somehow feel those emotions as well. The intensity and the gravity were almost overwhelming. Although she had been nothing but an unwanted witness, she felt something nonetheless.

She touched his shoulder without saying a word, yet the gesture spoke volumes for Basch. He looked up to her, eyes a bit tearful but without actual tears. The emotions were reburied deep down his heart, his very soul, yet the pain ordered it to break free, screaming for mercy, screaming for release. But would she understand? She did not really know what was in his heart, did she?

Fran tilted her head slightly, as she nodded to him, as if prodding him to let go. She was unsure of what he would do, or what she wanted him to do. She just continued to hold on to his shoulder, eyes fully focused on his. It was almost as if she peered through him, and saw his own soul. In their silence, she touched him, letting him get a glimpse of the windows to her own soul, hoping to tell him that in that brief moment, they had some sort of connection and that she knew, and she sympathized with him.

Basch breathed in heavily, suddenly looking as if his chest were bound by a thousand chains. His face was still contorted with pain, but now of a different kind. The Viera knew that no spell could soothe him now.

"I confess. I heard everything. You did what you had to do, and everything is back in its place." She whispered calmly, hoping to ease the pain somehow, "it will get better. That was what I've been told… what I've believed all my life. Frankly, I have no reason to think otherwise."

He looked away and bent his head, remembering the tears in Ashe's eyes, remembering how she sounded so… broken.

"I have hurt her. I vowed not to, never again." He closed his eyes shut, hoping to block away the thoughts, the image of her crying before him. "Still I hurt her. And this time I have no one else to blame but myself."

Not knowing what else to do, she placed her long hands on his head, stroking his hair slightly, remembering how her older sister used to do so whenever she needed the comfort. "Ashe is not foolish Basch. She wanted that life as much as you did – and that was exactly why it pained her so much. Her confusion led her to believe that the half truths and half lies all amounted to nothing. You were both not at fault. Fate merely jests."

"But it was real Fran."

"I know, that is why it hurts so much," she replied knowingly. It was odd, but somehow she felt pain in her own heart. Empathy, that was what Balthier called it. It was a strange feeling, a very unpleasant one at that.

"What am I to do now?" Never has Fran seen the knight so devastated. Looking at him now, she realized he looked spirited that first time she saw him in the Nalbina Dungeons. Was love truly this puissant that it could destroy a man who was not even fazed by living three years of his life in a condition worse than death?

Reluctantly, she replaced her hands at her sides as she found the resolve to give him some answers. "Basch, there is something you need to know."

He looked up to her with confused eyes and for a moment, she felt like she could not do it after all. Did she have the strength to add to this man's pain? Shaking her head, she focused on doing what she thought was right. "That time in the passage. You told her to let go didn't you? You wanted her to forget."

He looked away for a while, the confusion and pain in his eyes still not subsiding. He nodded slowly, urging her continue.

"Well Basch… she did. You got what you wished for," she regretted it when she realized what she had just done. Somehow she felt like she just worsened his wound instead of healing it. "You were bound to know it sooner or later. It is better for you to know it now."

He was still, so very still that Fran started to doubt if he even heard her at all.

"She woke up thinking her poisoning never happened. It was as if she just slept through the past few weeks." She looked away; suddenly feeling like it was not right to look at him while he was most vulnerable. "She does not remember it Basch. She was questioned repeatedly, but she could not reply. It was not because she did not want to; it was because she has completely forgotten whatever it was that happened when you were together."

She had forgotten…? She had forgotten her past once, it did not seem so surprising that she could go through it again. It took a while before the words sunk in. They had lived on borrowed time. Perhaps it was he who slept and spent the past few weeks in a dream. The reality he claimed to exist now only remains true for him. He knew it was bound to end sooner or later, yet he never knew it would end this way. But the gods have still been kind to him. Now he could go on with his life as if nothing happened. What more could he ask for?

The gods have been kind to him. She could no longer remember anything from that game they played. She has forgotten everything. To her he remains dead. Perhaps _he_ never even truly existed. She has forgotten everything, that house by the sea, that sandcastle by the shore. Perhaps he should begin forgetting as well.

She has forgotten everything. The words kept repeating itself in his head. It caused him grief, and suddenly, he realized that the past tragedies in his life paled in comparison to what he felt now. He never thought he could be so weak, he never knew he could be silly enough to succumb to the false promises of love.

He shook as he cried silently and the Viera never knew that a man's heart was capable of feeling such sorrow. Perhaps he did not even know he was even crying at all. Would he feel the comfort though, she wondered, as she replaced her hand on his head.

"You will live Basch, believe me you would." _You have to_, she added to herself, genuinely feeling sorry for the man.

The tears kept on falling down his eyes, and she remained silent, no longer knowing what more to say. It took some time before it finally stopped yet it was clear to see that it was far from over.

"I've had my share of life," he replied flatly several moments later. "I am already dead."

* * *

Author's Notes:

I updated after how many days… WOW! It's a miracle. I deserve… I deserve… KAIN HIGHWIND. (Give him to me baby!) … er.. anyway. Nah, It was just because this was originally supposed to be chapter 13 but now it's 14. So there. Erm…

On a lighter note, here is our educational portion. Since we've been skipping it a lot, I have 2 "things to think about"

1. Aorin and I talked about this ages ago, but did you guys notice how Vossler and Basch have flowers in their surnames? Basch Rose; Vossler Azalea (almost spelled like it…). Now what is more interesting is that they are both soldiers of a dessert/slightly tropical country. Azaleas could grow in sandy soil and roses could also grow in different kinds of climates including tropical places. Even MORE interesting is we note what the flowers mean…

2. It is interesting to note Gabranth's name. Old norse has a word "gabba" which means "to mock." However, if you're bored and you search it in a dictionary, "Gabardine" seems to be the closest word to gabranth, and this means "a long coarse outer garment." So from my POV, it symbolizes his being Larsa's protector. "Gabhar" could also mean "strong" (search it in etymonline) well anyway, that's my take on it. hope it was interesting for you guys!

Again, as always, thanks to all those who read, and thank you to all those who reviewed. I don't know when the next chapter would come out. School is insane so… well… I would try hard to come up with it though! Thank you again!


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Peace and quiet was all she wanted and yet it seemed as though it was too much for her to ask for it now. After all, she was the head of state and peace and quiet were things of the past. Many statesmen have come and gone, filing complaints, making project proposals, pledging allegiances; everything was, as her servants would call it, business as usual for the sovereign of Dalmasca. She was tired of looking pleasant, and the many petty problems addressed to her were somehow weighing her down. For a while she wanted to run wild in the sands to slay beasts or poke at treasure chests – anything, just to escape that place. Yet she knew she may not do so, not without a proper reason. Nevertheless, when she finished looking through the papers in her desk, she finally decided to break free.

She walked regally as she moved out of her office - the tiredness, frustration and boredom did not even taper her grace. She was Ashelia after all, the queen of Dalmasca. Many poets now call her a muse – an elegant beauty with a venomous bite. The word about her prowess and ultimate victory was spreading across Ivalice. She was starting to become a living legend of sorts and while many people wanted to see her, not a lot of people wanted to meet her. She became somewhat like an idol, alluring yet untouchable. The compliments and admirations did not really appeal to her and yet she still moved with grace, albeit unintentionally. The gown and the palace seemed to make her act as she had been always been preprogrammed to do. In fact, she could still hear her governess admonishing her for the slightest show of clumsiness at the back of her mind. Yet all those days have passed, and now she was who she was born to be. She worked hard the past few years to reclaim what was hers.

She must be satisfied.

But frankly she was not.

She dreamt of this day years ago when she was but a child. She wanted to be more than what her father expected her to be. Being a bride or a monarch's wife seemed to be a life many girls wished for, and for a while she enjoyed the thought. All she had to do was smile, look pretty, and be polite to all. Yet when her brothers died one after the other, she knew, she had bigger shoes to fill. When her own husband died, she knew such childish fantasies should no longer have any place in her mind.

She had to be strong… she had to believe, and she did. And now here she was - ruler of her kingdom, as well as her husband's. Fleets of soldiers were under her command; groups of statesmen were at her beck and call, and still, millions of people were waiting for her to help them get over the tragedies of war.

There was no time for Ashe now. There was no Ashe now. There was only a queen.

To think her throne was threatened some time ago. The weeks she spent away from the palace thankfully did not cause a crisis. Things were more controlled than she expected it to be. Perhaps she should give her ministers a fitting reward. But then she had other people to thank as well, like the Young Emperor Solidor, her Uncle Halim, her friends who remained true to her… and a certain Judge Magister…

Before she could even think about thanking them, she could not help but remember how moments in life truly were fleeting and how precious things kept on drifting away. It was so hard to keep holding on - it was very painful to hold on to something that had passed.

She woke up days ago feeling as though nothing was amiss, yet she realized something was wrong before she was even told. It was an odd feeling, almost like telling a lie without really knowing the truth. She knew she could ask for nothing more, and yet she yearned for it, as if life was not complete without it – whatever it was.

_It_ truly was a strange feeling.

But some feelings seemed to be more definite, and she figured she should focus more on them. When she woke up and realized that her precious friends were there, she suddenly felt so blessed.

She was glad to see Vaan and Penelo again. The last time she heard from them was when they delivered her ring. They were still the same – childish and enthusiastic, yet having them around her made things seem a bit … lighter. Suddenly she regretted not being able to see hem off because of all the work she had to finish.

She was relieved to see Fran and Balthier alive and well. She spent several melancholic days and nights, staring at the remains of Bahamut, wishing the sky pirate would keep his promise. She may never admit it out loud but he was very dear to her. He taught her things, made her see thing she never would have known. Fran was dear to her as well, almost like an older sister she never had. They left hastily without saying goodbye – but that was their style, she knew. Sky pirates had reputations … as well as necks to protect

She and Larsa had a rocky start, but they have spent the past few months talking and opening more cordial relations between their two states. She could safely say that in the end, she did not regret listening to him after all. He proved himself to be an indispensable ally. He left with a promise to visit her again, this time to make more propositions to aid the reconstruction of Rabanastre. He said that it was the least he could do, after all the trouble his ancestors caused them.

She was… pleased to see Basch again. Yet it was weird. She was told that she spent the past few weeks with him and yet she could not remember what happened. It was strange, and a bit twisted, now that she thought about it, how she spent time with him without knowing her past, only to remember everything and forget what happened when they were together in the first place. She supposed it was not that much of a peculiarity for all she should think about was how he used to care for her when she was much younger. Perhaps she was not the same girl, but at the same time she was still undeniably the same person. Their situation might have been the same. She should be grateful that it was actually he who was given the task – and be happy that everything turned out well in the end.

Maybe that was where the strange feeling came from. Something so familiar was now something she knew very little of. She knew she had absolutely nothing to worry about, for surely Basch was more than capable of handling the situation. She spent so many years in his care. Although the bond they had was severed, she understood everything with much clarity now. Everything… everything was just like the old days… except for the fact that some things would never be the same. He now lives with a new persona, as his old one remained buried, never to live again. He is now part of the empire thus his allegiance is no longer solely hers. Things have changed, both in a political level and even on a personal level. And yet, the way he took on the mission, the way he supposedly took care of her in the duration of her sickness, made her realize that she should not focus on these differences after all.

His stay in her palace was brief; in fact, she did not even get to talk to him. Yet she knew it was a trivial matter to be upset with, for she knew his being in Rabanastre was a security risk as well. She wanted to thank him personally for all that he had done for her… and yet… it was odd. Somehow she felt as though things were better this way, with words left unsaid.

Frankly he confounded her, when before she did not even have to think too deeply about things, about him. Perhaps she did not even care to think about him at all. He was just always there, especially when Vossler was not around, and now that the raven-haired knight is gone forever, it was as if he took over. He was her only guardian now.

Her only guardian.

No… that was not quite right. He was Larsa's guardian, not hers, she thought as she shook her head for her silly thoughts. It was all right. She did not need him anymore.

She did not need him.

Oddly, the words seemed to stab her heart. Without even thinking, she looked behind her and saw nothing but an empty space. But still, she half expected him to be there, just as he had always been. Yet she had not completely lost her mind. Of course he was not there! He was back in Archades where he belonged. He served her well, she no longer needed him. That's right, she told herself, almost reassuringly, she no longer needed him.

Yet why did she suddenly feel so … lonely? It was strange… She did not know how to feel about him anymore. He was once a subject, a friend, an object of her loathing, and yet it all boils down to the fact that he was still constantly a knight, her knight. Perhaps he had even been more than that.

He was more than a guardian… more than a knight….

She stopped walking for a while when she saw that she had reached the palace gardens. It had been a while since she last went there, and suddenly she felt the flowers calling out to her. Tentatively, she stepped on the soft ground, smelling the wet grass. It was an all too familiar feeling, almost like reliving an old habit. She spent so many days playing in this garden, hiding from her governesses and her nannies. Why… back then she was so small that she fit inside one of the…

She was barely able to contain her voice when she almost lost her balance as she stepped on one of the small burrows. She touched one of the trees to steady herself, and she felt the seeping warmth in her cheeks. She did not bother looking around to find out if anyone saw her or not. She just figured she deserved it after all the mischievous deeds she had done when she was younger. How many times had it been when one of her victims fell into the trap? They ranged from maids, butlers, vassals, soldiers and even some knights.

She sat on the corner, trying to fit inside the small burrow, fully knowing she was way too tall for it now. Yet she still stooped down as much as she can, not thinking about her soiled gown or what her servants might think. Ashe was alive once more, more than ever. She just stayed there for old time's sake.

Everything looked different now from her current perspective.

"You'll never find me, the tree will hide me," she chanted to herself softly, remembering how the game went when she was much younger. For a while she thought she heard her maids shouting her name frantically once more. She looked up, seeing the branches of the old tree with the sunlight playfully peeping from its leaves. She used to pretend that the tree was some sort of guardian, an esper of sorts. She used to think that it would protect her from those who sought her out.

That was until a bumbling squire managed to discover her hiding place.

She was suddenly a child once more, all but five years old, confronted with an unfamiliar face… soft gray eyes, unruly golden hair…

_Her nanny always warned her about strangers, yet this strange man did not seem to be threatening at all. He seemed lost, confused even. _

"_What're you doing?" she asked him, sounding a bit annoyed as she stood up and placed both of her hands by her waist, "You're not from here are you?"_

_His mouth was slightly open for a few seconds, surprised at hearing the small voice. He probably realized what he was doing a few seconds later and so he suddenly straightened up and faced her. "No, I am not little girl."_

"_You talk funny," she frowned slightly suddenly remembering some of those people her father used to talk to in the court, "And you haven't answered my question. What're you doing?"_

"_I am sorry… It seems like I fell…"_

_She laughed out loud then, "You sure did!" she stood up and moved her hands as if to emphasize her point, "You were going like this!" she placed both of her hands in her cheeks and opened her mouth to form an "o" and widened her eyes._

_He grunted slightly, looking as if he was torn between getting annoyed or suddenly being fond of the girl. He chose the latter and smiled at her instead. He knelt down to be closer to her. "What about you? What are you doing?" unconsciously, he reached out and pulled up the strap of her gown, in an attempt to put it back in place._

_She quickly swatted his hands away, tilting her head upwards regally and almost looking as if she was about to reprimand him for what he did. "I am hiding."_

"_Hiding? From who?" _

"_From those who are running after me," she said exasperatedly, pushing her hair away from her face, putting more soil in her cheeks from her dirty hands. _

_The man was suddenly serious, almost frowning, "They wish to hurt you?" he looked around to see if there was someone there. _

"_They'd make me do things I don't like. And sometimes, they punish me too." She pouted as she rubbed her hands on her eyes, adding more dirt to her face. She looked quite miserable and he suddenly wanted to hold her close. _

"_You poor thing," he mumbled as he got his kerchief and grabbed her hand. She did not pull away this time and so he managed to wipe off the dirt in her hands. "If that is the case, then I will protect you." _

"_Why?" she frowned, as she let him wipe away the dirt in her face as well. "I don't need protectoring" _

"_Protection," he chuckled as he gently wiped her brow. _

"_Protectoring! It's because you talk funny. That's how we talk 'round here," she replied stubbornly, stomping one foot on the ground. _

"_All right, I am sorry." He pursed his lips and looked like he was trying hard not to smile. "Well, if you do not need protectoring, I could be your friend."_

"_Friend?" she tilted her head slightly. _

"_Did I say it wrong too? Is it… friender… friendering?"_

"_You're silly," she suddenly laughed as she placed her small hand in his cheek. She noticed his eyes widen slightly, and for a while she thought her teacher never taught her what to call the color of his eyes. It was not black… nor blue, nor green… was it sil…sil…silver? "You're almost as big as Vossler but you're still silly." _

"_I'm … sorry?" the girl seemed to enjoy insulting him, but strangely enough, he did not feel annoyed. Perhaps it was because she was just so … adora-_

"_Okay, I give you the honor of being my friend." He was surprised when she suddenly pinched his cheek with the whole of her hand._

_She quickly let go when she saw him grimace. Did she do the wrong thing? Her third brother said that everything had an appropriate gesture. Knights genuflected, statesmen shook hands, her brothers would carry her, her father would mess their hair. She suddenly wondered what friends do. _

_She grabbed his hand with both of hers and placed it near her cheek. "Do it too."_

"_What?" _

"_Isn't that what friends do?" she let go and demonstrated with one of her hands. "like that?"_

_He did not know what in the world she was talking about, so he just smiled at her once more. "From where I came from, it was much simpler than that." _

_She was silent for a while, as if in thought, "I have a father, brothers, cousins, nanny… guardian… I've never had a friend before." She looked up to him with captivating big blue eyes, "teach me what they do."_

_A girl with no friends? He suddenly felt something tug hard at his heart. "Well, we just introduce ourselves to one another…"_

"_Introwdoose?"_

"_We tell each other what our names are," he added, before she could tell him about how funny he was once more, "like this, hello. My name's Basch. How do you do?"_

"_That's you're name?" she asked, wondering how to spell what he just said. "You're bosh…booosh.."_

"_Basch," he corrected her yet still it sounded the same._

"_Barsh… Bawrsh…" She shook her head, as she laughed, "Your name is funny too. My name is just simple."_

"_Oh? And what is that?"_

"_My name is Princess," she said proudly as she pulled her torn gown to curtsy at him just as her teacher taught her to do, "That's what everyone calls me." _

"_Princess?" it was his turn to frown and be confused. _

"_But sometimes, I'm called Ashe too. I like that name more than Princess. It's short and easy to spell. It's just A-S-H-E." she nodded knowingly, "What about you, how do you spell your name?"_

"_My name?"_

"_Yup! So I can write it down in my book so I won't forget. Friend Bawrsh" _

"Friend Bawrsh," she whispered to herself as she remembered the distant memory.

The smile lingered in her face as she looked away, putting the memory behind her once more.

It was strange, almost frightening how years could make one forget. It was almost sad how the many events of her life changed everything. It seemed so simple back then, when a stranger can become a friend.

A friend can be so much more, and time is not the only factor. This status, her birthright, his promise – how did she forget such a simple memory from her past?

What was she thinking; she asked herself as she stood up, walking away from the burrow, walking away from the memories of her childhood. She lost all this in a blink of an eye – all because of some drug. Yet she did not need any magik or concoction after all.

How much had she really forgotten? How much was she actually missing?

Trying to find out would be futile. A woman of her stature had no time for such trivial things.

She walked regally once more, as she replaced her feet on the concrete ground, back in the wide corridors of the palace. More than anything, she was queen now. Her task was to deal with the present and look on towards the future. She had no time to dwell on the past, or hope to regain those things she may never have again.

She just has to be strong, she has to believe. Losing the past may not be an entirely awful thing. After all, people grow, people move on.

It was a melancholic feeling… it was even sadder to think that she was probably the only one feeling this…

And yet maybe… just maybe…

He was probably feeling the same way.

* * *

He had been to the strangest places and yet never in his life had he felt so lost. He had already spent countless days and nights in this wide office and still, he felt like a cockatrice among a herd of chocobos. Ironically, the heavy armor was the only thing that somehow comforted him for it was something he was actually used to. And yet everything else – the paper work, his subordinates, this office, or even his department's description – everything was just so different.

Had there been a war, the 9th Bureau of the Archadian Magistrate would have specialized in espionage and other functions involving stealth. While it seemed more peaceful, it was actually too dirty – for it was part of their job to make sure that the mess was cleaned up to keep everything in order. While there were currently no wars or insurrections (as his department was in charge of making sure there really were none) everyone still had to work, both secretly and openly, to resolve petty matters and put a cork on everything else that might possibly cause public hysteria.

While this kind of job would, as Penelo put it, further the cause of peace in Ivalice, yet another one of his friends (particularly Balthier) would simply say that it really was _not his style._ He had been raised as a fighter, and he had never known any other craft. While the Dalmascan Order taught him so much more than tactics and warfare, this kind of work, this kind of life was harder to get used to than he initially thought.

It was so hard to be Gabranth. Yet he could not be anyone else. Not anymore.

At least the work kept him preoccupied. The more he immersed himself in this new role, this new life, the more did he forget about his old one. Life in Archades was quiet, even in those tense moments where he had to use all of his faculties whenever his will was tested. Everything ends - intellectual banters, fatal duels, assassination attempts– before one can actually realize that it had actually commenced. He was often on his toes, and yet there was a certain kind of monotony to it that sometimes he wished for more things to come just for him to somehow feel alive.

Alive.

It was such an ambiguous word – one he had seen in thousands of case reports he had browsed the past few days. The state concerns itself with the statuses of criminals, rebels, or even heroes. His department was in charge of keeping some of them alive while others had to be destroyed, deleted, as if they never even existed. With life seeming to be more inconstant than he had ever imagined, he started wondering what constitutes being alive in the first place. Did he ever live at all?

Of course he knew the answer – it was just not one of those things he should think about.

Other matters needed his attention. Nethicites, power utilization, energy consumption, missing parts of puzzles, a crazed man's illusions – everything needs to be sorted out for the Draklor laboratory has some experimenting to do, the Archadian Senate wants to pass a new bill, the Nalbinian emissaries want support, the Dalmascan court wanted some answers.

The past few months' events were no more than a bunch of unanswered questions now. Some called it an outrage, some a controversy, or even scientific breakthrough. It had been reduced to matters involving politics, state relations, natural resource development, or even history and archeology. All those _personal information_ he managed to keep had a value of no more than a mere fairytale. And because it was irrelevant, he, as the head of the 9th bureau, had no business thinking about it.

Where was Raithwall's Nethicite? How were they supposed to harness its power? Would it even be safe to try and experiment on it? What did the common people have to gain?

Frankly, while he supposedly had first hand information in all these things, he had no answers. That fateful day in the Barheim passage left him with nothing but feelings no one would ever care about. Perhaps the only tangible thing he had of any relevance was the scar that was left in his hands when he briefly touched the stone. Other than that, he had nothing of importance – nothing that the bureau was looking for.

The historians and other experts have been flooding his department with manuscripts, old records, journal fragments hauled from the ruins of Nabudis. Investigative teams have been dispatched to look for clues all over Ivalice. Information was coming in from everywhere but somehow his gut told him they haven't gone to the right place to get the right answers.

Larsa told him of what happened during his encounter with the man who started all this. He also told him of the other man that was supposedly there with them in the Barheim passage. He personally went to Aitor's cell to get more answers from him, and yet the crazed man could no longer be talked to. The only clue he had now was the bloodied piece of coarse cloth the young man picked up at the site.

There were no fresh corpses obtained from the passage. The remains found there were all from the prisoners who have died. It was possible that he, whoever he was, disappeared with the stone, never to be found again. Yet it was also possible that he was still somewhere out there and they were just not very good at looking. And yet, still another possibility was that he never truly existed.

The man was mysterious enough, as Larsa pointed out, for Aitor talked about him like he were some sort of God – an entity he thought to be gone, but resurfaced, and had disappeared just as quickly. He could have been nothing but the old man's hallucination. Yet all the other factors, while not proving his existence, seemed to support the fact that he truly was there. The supposed de-activation of Raithwall's nethicite, the obliteration of all the monsters in Barheim Passage, and the movement of the torrents despite the supposed vacuum inside the passage were just some of these things.

Had he been some sort of a legend, just as the nethicites had been? Would he even reappear? Was he a mortal? Perhaps he was; the blood on the cloth seemed to say so – that is, if the cloth truly belonged to him. Idly, his thumb brushed the cloth. The texture was familiar. In his journeys he always managed to obtain something like this… a pelt… a wolf's pelt…

"_Here's another one. You might need it. I managed to sun dry it yesterday,"_

Images suddenly flashed in his mind. He almost felt the sand in his feet.

"…_Isn't it too early to hunt for marks?" _

"_Well, we were cleaning up when suddenly he said something about a mission… he left urgently after that…"_

"_A mission you say?" _

"_Balthier… you do not think that…" _

"_It's too soon to think… or not think of anything."_

"Amon." He muttered, mostly to himself as he suddenly felt like he was on to something.

The answers were probably there in the peaceful coast. The thought gave him mixed emotions for the place had an entirely new meaning for him now.

Must he go back? Could he go back?

Of course it would be much easier if he just sent someone to find out. Yet this was one of the things he simply could not delegate.

Must he go back? Could he go back?

He was just probably overcomplicating things. But still, thinking about it felt somehow wrong in his heart. He vowed never to return there, at least not alone. Yet he did not really have any other choice. It is not a matter of returning or looking back. The circumstances were all different. Heck, he was not even that same person that left.

* * *

Author's Notes: MWAHAHAHA I can't believe it. I updated. The past month had been insane for me because I'm adjusting in the "big (evil and crazy) school" but anyway, that's beside the point. I'm really sorry for being sooooo slow. But I promise! I'll get there (wherever there is) someday. Please be patient with me -sweatdrop-

AGAIN, thanks to everyone who read and THANKS SO MUCH to those who reviewed. Oh man, you guys are my only ray of sunshine in my pitiful existence. waaaah.

For our trivia time, just for the geekiness of it all, (and because I've been forced to study the constitution too much that I'm starting to feel intense hatred towards my country's supreme court...) I just want to point out how "nice" Archadia's political system is. (you can just go ahead and skip this crazy stuff...) I personally come from a Republic (like Landis...?) and we have this tripartite-gov't thing going on. As far as I can infer, Archadia sort of has the same thing, with the Judge Magisters being in charge of the Judiciary as well as the Executive departments (Enforcing laws and actually determining who gets punished and who gets "saved") while the "senate" being a "senate" is in charge of legislating and creating Laws. Of course, Larsa, as the Emperor would be the Chief Executive with all the POWER! But then in that very starwars-like scene in FF12, it seemed as though the senate had some powers over Emperor Gramis as well. And then you may ask what the relevance of all this is... well... I think uh... I think this kind of set-up would be kind of logical, considering the most powerful state of Ivalice is headed by a 12 year old kid. I mean, come on, for all Larsa's intelligence and (my) love (for him), he is not even legally capacitated to work in most states. So while Larsa is "silent" the state would practically be run by the Judges and the Senate - and so on a political level, Gabranth might have asked Basch to protect Larsa, that is keep the senate from legislating crazy things and getting his power/or causing chaos to ivalice and all that - how? well, he's in the 9th bureau! Keep all the information and the "veil of ignorance" would make the senate unable to do some self-serving legislation. Keep the people satisfied by releasing the right information. Also since Gabranth is still a judge, he can keep all the other in check (and loyal to Larsa) as well. So in effect, 9th bureau becomes the POWERHOUSE - that is until Larsa starts ordering them around, just like how Gramis and Vayne used to. WOOHOO! Basch just got a promotion!

Erm... ehem. Sorry for that. But anyway, I just would like to say, again thanks for reading this and well, before I forget, I would like to apologize for all those people I... er... "saddened" the past chapter. I will try not to do it again. (the operative term here is TRY... hahahaha) so that's it for now. My author's notes is so long now.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

_She squinted as she happened to gaze on the light of the setting sun. The reddish glow was bright despite the grayish clouds creeping in from behind, hinting the end of another day. It had been a good day, she knew, as she felt the lightness in her heart, making all her troubles seem to be inexistent. She felt happy, elated even, that she just wanted to run…_

_She just wanted to run into his arms. _

_She trudged on the white sand, quickening her pace, eager to be with him. The sea, the sand, the people around it all seemed to fade away. All that remained were the setting sun and he… who she was looking for. _

_She could not wait to see his face… his elusive yet warm smile, his kind eyes, his unruly hair. She could not help but be fond of him. Will she ever get to tell him how much he meant to her? He made her life more pleasant. Being with him was the reason why she felt so happy. _

_She truly must love him. How could she possibly forget him?_

_But where in the world was he? She was eager to tell him something… but then again, it's not something very important. She could not even remember anymore what it was. Perhaps she'd remember everything once she sees him. What's more important is that she just wanted to see him, to reach him. She was almost there… she could feel it… she could…_

The sudden movement the Dalmascan airship made as it landed in the tarmac was enough to jolt her awake. The light disappeared from her view and was replaced by darkness. She was confused at first when she opened her eyes, not really sure of what just happened until she heard the pilot's announcement that they have safely landed in Bhujerba.

She looked out the window and saw the playful clouds the state was known for. She absorbed the view as she slowly pushed away the images that had just entered her head. She had that dream again, she thought, as she brushed away her hair from her face. While she did not find the recurring dream unpleasant, it did not entirely please her either as she was often left wondering whenever she awoke. The dream felt as though it were something more than a mere illusion in her head. It was almost as if it was a memory… a memory of a feeling…

Idly, she touched the ring in her finger, and she was not too surprised when she realized that it was still cold to the touch as it had always been. She always thought her heart had been the same way; after all, she had been a widow for several years now. Memories of Rassler still visited her from time to time, and yet the dreams she was having now… it elicited a different feeling from her altogether. Though it was not like that time when the occuria were toying with her head, she felt as though another force was somehow toying with her heart.

She tried to shake off her thoughts as she stood up from her seat, fully knowing that she was in no position to think of fantasies, especially now that she was scheduled to meet diplomatic heads from different states. She had to be strong now, more than ever, just to prove that she deserved to be called the Queen of Dalmasca. Surely, an image of a love-sick girl would not appropriately paint the picture. Gone were the days when she was simply a decorative wife. Now she was queen.

Yet despite the images of majesty that she continually established (or at least tried to) in her head, visions of the calm sea, the soft sand, and that _familiar_ face continued to nag her.

Realizing that she had to pull herself together before the conference, she promptly dismissed her entourage and instead, opted to take a walk in the Bhujerban streets to clear her mind.

Perhaps she truly needed this, she thought, a calming walk in the wide streets of Bhujerba was a great contrast to the atmosphere she had been living in the past few weeks. She did not know why the atmosphere she had longed to restore for so long now seemed to suffocate her. The corridors of the palace seemed to be narrower than she thought it to be, and the magnificent Galtean architecture did not seem to awe her any longer. Even those places where she and the man she loved had made beautiful memories now seemed so dull.

She yearned for the life she once had years ago when things did not seem to weigh as much in her shoulders. While her kingdom never really went through a peaceful phase until now, her life had been filled with relatively quieter moments. Perhaps the reason why she felt so cornered in her life as queen was because she was starting this new chapter of her life only now. The Ashelia she left when she supposedly ended her life was no more than a daughter, and a wife – an orphan, a widow.

While she acknowledges the fact that she had accomplished so much, the lonely nights still get to her. Despite surpassing all expectations, sometimes she felt so alone at the top. Perhaps it was that old life she yearned for, and perhaps she missed … him, _her_ _husband_, most of all. Perhaps that was the reason why she had been having these recurring dreams. She figured that _the man she was seeking couldn't be anyone else but him_. Oddly enough, while that was the answer her instincts provided her with, another part of her thought that it did not feel quite right. Did she not already come into terms with Rassler's death? She had already fully accepted that the man she loved was gone. The journey she had with her friends helped her let go of the past. And yet why…? Why does she still have this heavy feeling in her heart, akin to that feeling she had when Rassler died yet at the same time seeming like a different feeling altogether. It was odd how her time with the prince had been so brief – so brief that she shouldn't have had that many memories to keep her longing for the past. That time she had with him could be no longer than a moment, and she was possibly just letting her illusions, her wishes, her desires to augment it, making it seem grander than it had been. Sure, she knew it had been a loss, a very painful one at that, but it was not something that needed lingering. It was not something she possibly wanted to bring back to her life…because she did not know how life with him could have truly felt like in the first place. He died before they could even truly live as husband and wife. Marital bliss had no meaning to her. How could she yearn to _bring back the feeling_ when she was clearly incapable of doing so?

_She did not know the feeling, she never felt it_.

Still. Why did it feel like she did?

It was probably just love. Surely she felt that one. Surely love meant something to her, at one point or another.

"Amalia!"

She paused when she heard the familiar name. Instinctively, she searched the voice, without really expecting to be the woman he called for. Amalia. Surprisingly, hearing the name after such a long while made her feel nostalgic. Somehow it felt bittersweet. He called out the name once more, and she finally saw the man looking at her intently. Amidst her surprise, their gazes met for an instant and the man, instead of looking away stood and ran to her instead. She was the Amalia he called for? Yet who was he, she asked herself as she saw him getting closer.

He did not seem like a threatening man, in fact, he looked just as normal as normal could be. He wore the usual Bhujerban ensemble, with his hair typically slicked back. He walked and acted just like all the plebeians around her. Despite his generalness, he looked somehow familiar and yet…

"Amalia! It is you!" she was about to move away when she heard his words and her moment of hesitation made escape impossible. "Hey Amalia! Don't recognize me now huh?" he laughed as he lifted his hand to mess up his hair, "see? It's me, Key!" He looked genuinely happy to see her, and this caught her attention.

"Key?"

She noticed how he was unarmed, and she assumed that the man was not planning anything up his sleeve. Could he have been one of the resistance members from the Bhuherban chapter that aided her? How else could he have known her alias? Then again, it was also possible that he might have mistaken her for someone else… But the way he looked at her made it seem unlikely.

"Yeah! Well actually, it's Nhandi, I remember my name now. Oh boy, I really must have hit my head too hard when I fell of the terraces and ended up in Phon Coast, but then I think I want to keep Key as my name now for old time's sake," he grinned then as he excitedly moved his hands for emphasis, "you know what, you were right! There really was someone waiting for me, I am so glad I made it back and I'm so glad I remembered everything before it was too late." She did not have the faintest idea what he was talking about, but his excitement seemed so real that she did not have the strength to tell him the truth. "Where's Ba-.." he stopped and bent down to whisper, "Where's Basch? I only just realized he had the same name as the king-slayer. Why, the Parijanah and the Sainikah are still vigilant about this thing. Apparently, some kid had gone around in the past pretending to be… nevermind." He straightened up and had that cheerful expression once more. "What are you doing here? Hanta, I'm really so glad to see you."

Basch. He knew of Basch, and yet it seemed that he didn't really know him at all. Was he pulling her leg? Only a handful of people knew that Basch was living still. But then again, a name is a name… "He is away, on official business," she replied, for lack of anything better to say, deciding to ride along his game to know more about his motives. "Wait a minute, you said you fell from the terraces and ended up in the Phon Coast?

Key laughed and rubbed the back of his head timidly, "Yes, that's how it happened. I remember everything now. See, it was really funny. My fiancé dropped her ring, and I was about to get it … when I slipped and fell. I'm lucky to be alive, and I'm lucky to be back." He then clasped his hands together and suddenly looked like he was begging, "promise me that you and Basch would attend our wedding! We're just ironing out the plans, but it is to happen soon. Oh surely Basch would be back by then. Ha! That man can't stand being away from you, especially when Amon's around!"

From what she could gather, this man was from the Phon Coast… the Phon… Did he possibly know of the memories she no longer had? And from what he was saying, Basch seemed to have been _guarding her strictly as usual_ and … who is this… "Amon?"

"Oh yeah! He's here to meet one of his clients, or something like that. I know he's one of those higher ups –Though he refused to tell me, I know that it's someone living in the Ondore Estate. That man takes his job too seriously, I tell you. Though he's always goofing around with us in the coast"

The coast. The sea. The warm sunlight. That unknown face.

"Amalia! Are you all right?" he then placed his hand on her shoulder, "You don't seem so well. You had a fight with Basch didn't you?"

He was being too friendly with her. Perhaps the man had been misled. Perhaps he did not really know her after all. That's right, she was not herself when she lost her memory. She was probably living another life, and perhaps that was the person this man knew all along.

"Amalia…?"

This was dangerous. It was one of those moments where retreat seemed to be the better option. While she wanted to know more, she was still feeling unsure on how to go about it. She could not risk it; after all, she was no ordinary person. At least not anymore.

"No, not at all. I … I shall tell him that I've met you once I see him," she reached out to pat him on the shoulder, albeit awkwardly, "Very well then, I am afraid I have to attend to some important matters for the time being. I shall see you again, when it is possible."

His cheerfulness dwindled as he heard her speak, and his bright eyes were now filled with confusion, "Oh… all right then…" She hurriedly walked away and he just stood there, trying to figure out just what happened.

"People truly are acting strangely this week," he mumbled to himself as he watched Ashe's getting farther and farther, until he could not tell her apart from the crowd. He scratched his chin semi-consciously as he tried to figure out what could have gone wrong. "At least I'm back to normal."

Ashe on the other hand took hurried steps towards her uncle's mansion as more questions continued to pile up in her head. She did not know where she could get all the answers, but somehow she knew that she could always start from somewhere.

Her heart suddenly felt like it was throbbing once more, as thoughts of the feeling she had came back. That mysterious man, that sea, that coast. She already made all sorts of conclusions in her head, yet she still ended up so lost and confused…

"You'd better be there," she mumbled to herself as she found herself running, almost like in her dream_._ Thoughts of that _elusive yet warm smile, kind eyes,_ and_ unruly hair_ filling her head once more._ I will find you_, she added silently, still not really knowing who he was, yet nevertheless not realizing she was actually getting closer than she thought.

* * *

"Déjà vu,"

Larsa nodded victoriously as he remembered the word he was looking for. He had been sitting for a while in Ondore's old chair in his mansion's terrace when he realized he was in an exactly same scene years ago. He was there, conveniently tucked away as the Marquis attended to some pertinent matters concerning his state. He was used to waiting, and he did not mind it much. Ondore was famous for being a busy man. Nevertheless, despite the similarities, his visit now had some notable differences. Firstly, he was there on business as an official delegate of Archades, and not merely a young stowaway in an adventure. Secondly, his guardian did not seem very eager to get him back or as Gabranth used to say, keep him out of trouble, judging for the way he merely shrugged when he told him of his plans to attend the conference hosted by the Marquis. It was such a shame, considering the fact that he knew Lady Ashe would be in Bhujerba as well. He really wanted them to talk… yet, he also knew that his guardian had a lot on his mind, and pushing him as he did last time might actually do more harm than good. Things between Lady Ashe and his guardian had never been easy to understand, and perhaps it would never get easier.

Not without some help from his friends.

He got some paper from the desk as he started to form the sentences in his head.

"Dear Penelo," he wrote, his fingers seemingly used to the strokes, "I hope this letter finds you well. I am writing this here in Bhujerba. Incidentally, I do not know for sure if you would remember, but I am currently at that place where we first met." The young emperor lifted his hand, purposely stopping himself from writing when he felt warmth behind his ears. He suddenly had the urge to cross out his last sentence, or start anew in a clean sheet of paper. After rationalizing everything in his head, he figured that he was merely over-thinking. Hoping to focus back on the task at hand, he continued, shifting the topic to his guardian.

"I know you are concerned about Basch; rest assured he is doing better now. Then again, it is noticeable that he is not quite the same." Larsa stopped once more, this time, thinking about how to phrase his anecdote to effectively let Penelo know of the current situation, "Just this morning, I implored him to eat breakfast with me after the maids have reaffirmed my suspicion of his worsening inappetence. I have asked the cooks to bring in different kinds of food just to entice him to eat somehow but…" He grimaced as he remembered it, not even caring to wonder what it could have tasted like, "I do not know if it had been a Landisian delicacy, or if it was a common way to eat oats there in Dalmasca but, I must admit, it had been my first time to see oats being eaten like a porridge… with grilled fish in it!" Now that he thought about it, he had never seen porridge with fish before. What could it have been? "He seemed to like it for a while, and he managed to eat a lot of it. Yet he did not get to finish his meal. Perhaps adding the vegetable salad ruined the odd porridge completely."

Larsa re-read what he had written so far and nodded, satisfied with what he said as he felt the odd feeling in his stomach once more as he read the last line. Even Basch seemed to get grossed out by it eventually, as seen from the way he suddenly stood up and awkwardly excused himself, his expression half a scowl and half a grimace. After recomposing himself, he then continued, "Moving on to other matters, I am pleased to tell you that investigations on the nethicite have been progressing well. Although the actual nethicite is yet to be recovered as it still hasn't been found, the scientist have positively identified it to be the cause for the fiends' total demise in the Barheim Passage." Several weeks had passed since the incident and the spawning rate, especially near the place where they found Ashe and the others, decreased dramatically. "Some scholars are even thinking of the potential the nethicite has for clearing out abandoned lands while at the same time having the potential to wipe out life. With these developments, I've heard rumors that more people, including hunters, collectors and pirates have started seeking out these nethicites as it now fetches a high price in the black market." Balthier had a penchant for these things, Larsa suddenly remembered, "I wonder if Balthier is intent on finding it as well? I am more inclined to think that he is not, considering the experiences he had with nethcite as well as his father."

"Nevertheless, if the information we obtained in Nabudis were true, it would be virtually impossible to activate the Nethicites, even when it is found, because blood of Raithwall's descendants would have to be used to activate it." That was the part of the story that he still could not understand, "It would therefore seem as though Lady Ashe is the only person who is capable of harnessing its power, given that she is the only living descendant of Raithwall, as far as the historians could tell." Ashe's security would be one topic that would be discussed in the conference. While the stones are still missing, this new information might still pose as a threat.

"Interestingly, more documents have been shipped from Nalbina to Archades for everyone's perusal. This has kept Basch and the 9th bureau very busy." Idly, Larsa looked to his side and saw the worn book his guardian gave him. He had been reading it earlier. "Prince Rassler's lineage also originated from Raithwall. The Dalmascan and Nabradian line had the oldest surviving monarchies that is traceable back to the Dynast King's era." The house Solidor was only barely beginning as he was only the 4th descendant to rule. Even they or the monarchs his family had replaced, had not been Raithwall's descendants.

"The death of Prince Rassler put an end to the Nabradian line. However, some believe that that is not exactly true. According to Nabradian folklore, a prince once sought the hand of a Dalmascan noblewoman. However, the lady was known to have been indifferent and put more value to her devotion to her countrymen. She was said to have considered the prince's courtship as nothing but a trifling matter and so the he became more laid back in pursuing her albeit continuing to love her from afar. Soon, invaders from the Northern border threatened to cross the Nebra in order to invade not just Rabanastre but its neighbor Nalbina as well." Larsa paused, realizing that his letter might have started to become a history lesson, "I suppose being a native of Dalmasca, you are already aware of these things. Those who consider the story a mere folktale say that it was just a story spun off or romanticized from Lady Ashe and Prince Rassler's union, however some historians argue that the prince and the maiden truly existed. The historical backdrop and how it blended with the tale was seen as a sign of its authenticity. But nevertheless, those who think it was fictional and those who think it was historical agreed on one thing – that the end of the prince's and the maiden's story is still a mystery. Some historians opine that they got together in the end, though tragically, for the historic accounts prove that they both perished during the war. The mysterious prince, who was believed to be Prince Rassler's uncle, died while he was on his way to the enemy lines for a peace mission. The lady on the other hand was never heard from again. Many loyalists and hopefuls believe that a child was born from their union before they perished, but nonetheless, nobody had successfully discerned if this had been true or not. Perhaps you've heard a Dalmascan version of the tale? Maybe then we could put the pieces together and find out about the maiden's identity. I suppose I could ask Lady Ashe about this when I see her."

Larsa re-read what he had just written and nodded to himself. He then placed the pen on the table and stretched out a bit. History had always been one of his favorite subjects in the Academy and the new information being sent to Archades was quite useful for now the historians have more material to write about. He was also glad that he was so close to the 9th bureau that Basch gave him the interesting books to read (mostly for leisure) as well. The Nabradian scholars truly were ahead of their time, he thought, as he noted how in depth their accounts had been and how many of their books had intricate illustrations of several machines, architectural designs, as well as simple portraits of their scientists, monarchs, and other heroes. As he flipped the page of the worn book Basch gave him, he suddenly felt a pang of guilt, knowing how his family had been responsible for the destruction of such a grand kingdom.

He traced the outline of an illustration of the Midlight Shard as he saw it in one of the pages… it was amazing how such a small object was capable of making such a big difference. What could have happened if another shard like this existed? Never again would he let what happened in Nabudis recur. Never again. That was the least he could do to save his family's honor. What if Raithwall's nethcites were to be used for destruction – the one thing he vowed to prevent? Raithwall's nethicite… he wondered where it could possibly be found or if more fragments of it actually existed. If it fell to the wrong hands then surely it….

"I don't know if this really is the thing you're looking for, but I'm telling you Marquis, this thing is cursed!"

He glanced up and saw Ondore walking briskly from the opening of the veranda, seeming to be headed to the adjacent room. As the marquis disappeared from his view, he saw another man tailing him from behind, holding what seemed to be a dark crystal in his hand.

A used up nethicite.

Larsa dropped the book, as he dazedly stood up from his seat. His mind went on an overdrive, wishful thinking and rationality clashing in his head all at once. He knew nethicites like bread and butter – and the object the man was holding aptly piqued his curiosity. He just had to know more. His instincts told him that he had to follow Ondore and the man, even if he had to resort to spying. With this he stood up, his letter and sentiments all but forgotten, in favor of uncovering what seemed to be a mystery ahead of him.

* * *

Rich people truly were oddly spontaneous, he thought, and Marquis Ondore wasn't any different. First the Marquis seemed indifferent when he saw him, although it could have just been his poker face, considering he was in the middle of an engagement with a bunch of other old and important looking people at that time. He excused himself and finally attended to him with what then seemed to be enthusiasm in his voice. Yet when he said that "he saw everything," and showed him the rock as his proof, the marquis's expression fell and he suddenly seemed so distraught. He did not know if it had been his uttered words that that caused this, or if it had been because of the rock, but whatever it was, he knew his job description involved disclosing all the pertinent information he had gathered. Ondore's reception of it was not really within his control.

"Are you positively sure that that was the nethicite in the Barheim Passge?" his employer spoke finally after locking the door of his office. "Or are you just trying to pull my leg? Seriously Amon, I was already quite pleased with the information you have supplied me with, and I'm doubly glad to see that you are well, but this…?"

He never really anticipated such an adverse reaction from the older man, after all, he did not expect the rock to be anything more than a typical nethicite of some sort. But then again, he supposed the effects that accompanied the thing's usage had been anything but typical. Of course, as an average headhunter who did spy jobs on the side, he couldn't expect his employer to tell him everything. Yet he was not stupid, and word traveled fast enough. Two of the most powerful people in Ivalice had been involved in the scramble, and that must already increase the value of this… rock, nethicite, mineral, whatever it was.

But what can he do? It seemed like a harmless rock now. He shook his head and dropped it in the marquis' table. "How would I know this wretched thing's effect if I had not been there? It seems almost impossible how that dark stone emitted such bright light while Amalia was holding it. But believe me, it was bright and flashing… I thought it would kill me if I touched it, but obviously it didn't. I'm just glad I plucked it off Amalia's hands in the nick of time. I'm glad the light just got drained away or something… instead of exploding – which I honestly thought it would do."

"Wait, you mean to tell me that you managed to touch it?" Ondore sat down and leaned back on his chair, as he looked at the dark crystal atop his table. Amon was capable of doing many things, he knew, in fact, he was one of the few people he had handpicked to be under his employ. Although he was not as trained as the spies of Archadia's 9th bureau he often delivered, sometimes even exceeding his expectations. Yet when the facts of the case as it had been laid out by the authorities seemed to contradict what he just said, he was more inclined to trust the words of the former, for obvious reasons. "The Judge Magister said he couldn't even touch it for it nearly killed him. How could you possibly make me believe that you actually touched it?"

"Judge Magister – you mean Basch right?" he then waved his hands for emphasis, "But the fact of the matter is that I did, and now you have that rock. It hasn't been found because it was with me all along!"

The marquis frowned, still not looking pleased with what was happening before him. He had always been good at lying, but this one was just too hard to figure out.

"Fine, I don't expect you to believe me, but I'm just saying…" he took another look at Ondore's doubting face and sighed, "never mind. Forget it. I suppose I'm just lucky to be alive. Just keep that …thing. Get rid of it; play with it, I don't care. I just don't want to have anything to do with it."

Tentatively, Ondore reached out to touch it, finally opening up and giving in to the possibility of accepting the information. In reality, it looked more like a crystal than a stone. He knew a lot about minerals, after all, the family business had revolved around those extracted from the Lhusu Mines. He was also willing to concede that this thing Amon brought him truly was a different kind of mineral – even plausible enough to be considered a nethicite, for its formation seemed more complex as seen from the way light bounced off of it. The contour was also different from anything he had seen before but oddly, it looked quite familiar…. The smooth exterior contrasted with its jagged formation from within. If it only glowed… if it looked more like the sun then it would be almost identical to… That's right… it somehow resembled the shard Raminas kept in the palace.

With this he sighed, as he placed the thing in the middle of his table once more. "Well all right, just tell me everything that happened. Start from the beginning. When I've heard the whole story, I would decide if I were to believe you or not."

Amon grumbled under his breath for a moment until he finally sat down in a chair across Ondore and proceeded to tell him what happened – from that time he saw Amalia getting captured until he was thrown off the boulder. He tried to be as succinct as possible, without leaving out as many details as he could. When he finally reached the part where he encountered Ashe's unconscious form, he started to feel tingling all over his body once again. The tense moments of the past came rushing back to him. He could almost feel the panic and the pain.

"I seemed to have lost consciousness when I fell, but then there was a lot of commotion when I came back to my senses. Apparently, the crazy old man had some contraption with magiks and I heard some fighting and screaming from above. I managed to climb back up only to realize that everything was brighter and waves of energy almost blew me away."

"_Goddamn it woman, it is because I love you…"_

That was the first comprehensible thing he heard as he made his way back up. He saw them together not too far away from the boulder he was climbing. He did not really see their expressions but the sound of their voices, the sound of her cries were enough for him to realize what was happening. Basch and Amalia seemed to have a lot going on between them then, as what seemed to be well-kept feelings suddenly exploded, perhaps more intensely than what actually occurred simultaneously in the background. Amon realized that it wouldn't hurt if he left that part out of his story to the marquis, thinking it had been too personal and just happening to see it seemed like an encroachment already.

It took him a while to continue the story, and so Ondore prodded him to proceed by asking, "When you managed to get back up, what did you see?"

"First, I noticed how Basch was on the ground, clutching Amalia's feet as he ordered her to let go. Amalia on the other hand was shouting "I can't, I can't, I must end it." Not really knowing what to do, I decided to go as Basch had ordered her to. It was hard to reach her, but somehow I managed to do so. I did not really know what was happening anymore, I was just intent on getting whatever it was in her hand. I was just thinking about how I wanted things to end as well. I just wanted to stop the chaos."

"At that point I already felt very weak, but I suppose it had been my adrenaline pumping and my resolve working when I finally managed to touch the stone. It felt quite warm to the touch… and it was also oddly soothing. I was blinded after the thing flashed, and I thought I was a goner. I remember thinking that I can't possibly die yet, the people there, Amalia, Basch and the others, we all can't die yet. My mind was clear, and I only had one thought to hold on to. I just wanted everything to be quiet… to be peaceful…"

Ondore leaned forward, not batting an eyelash as he continued to listen to Amon's story. At that point the man paused, closing his eyes, as if he became lost in the moment. "And then what happened?"

"I felt like I was floating… or perhaps I was falling? I'm not quite sure. But nevertheless, I woke up still holding that stone, but it was much darker, just like how you see it now, and somehow I ended up in the middle of the lagoon. I swam hard, and I realized that I had more energy than before. I managed to get out, and finally saw the sun. A kid saw me just when I was getting too tired to swim and pulled me up on his boat. He was named…. Tchigiri… or something… and his family was kind enough to let me stay and rest in their house for a while. Soon, I trekked back to the Phon and… well… basically… that's it."

Things made more sense when he heard the whole story. "So if what you're saying is true, this crystal would be… Raithwall's nethicite?" Ondore reflected on what he just heard and realized that the facts of the case were quite similar to what he had heard from Larsa. Yet one thing still didn't fit into place, "You saw it while it had been activated… and you supposedly managed to pluck it out Ashelia's hands?" The nethicite seemed to have been working, the death of the fiends in the whole area was a proof of that. But how was it stopped? Who had been responsible for it?

"Well, that's what happened, and I'm not going to take back what I just told you." Amon said with finality, deciding that he was in no position to change the marquis' mind. "I must admit I am no hero, but I'm not a liar either. I am after all a headhunter, not a gossip from Archades." Nor a rich marquis from Bhujerba, he scornfully added to himself. "Convincing you isn't really my problem, but yours. After all, you were the one who hired me. If you no longer need my services then…"

"Amon, Amon," Ondore reached out to pat the younger man's arm to somehow calm him, "I am sorry if I had offended you, but you reports had been quite indispensable for me. I appreciate your professionalism and loyalty." Perhaps it could not be helped. He needed to bring the experts in to get the final verdict. "If you could only stay here and do something … one last thing for me. I know this is not part of your contract and so I am going to double your pay. I would just like you relay the story to some people…"

"The 9th bureau huh?" visibly irked, Amon stood up and decided to leave the room, "What, so they can send me to the dungeons for telling lies? Forget it. Nice doing business with you Marquis."

"Amon… do not…"

"Lady Ashe … the Marquis is busy…" Larsa's frantic voice was suddenly heard from outside the room that Ondore stopped talking as Amon stopped in his tracks as well. Quick footsteps got louder and louder until it was too late to…

"Uncle, I must speak with you!"

Suddenly the four people paused, looking frozen for a moment. The marquis was at the back, his hands on the table as his surprised eyes looked at his niece, still not knowing if she would remember his spy or not. The young emperor was a the other end, surprised for getting caught eavesdropping and still not knowing what to say now that he had been caught. The headhunter-turned-spy stood still, just a few inches away from the queen of Dalmasca, partly awestruck but mostly feeling awkward.

"Er… Hi… Amalia?" he said the words out loud without really thinking about it, and all that was left to do was add a tentative smile.

With this the queen's eye widened, as she fully captured the image before her. It was those familiar eyes… that unruly hair, that smile…

She placed her hand on her throat, her mind reeling with different emotions altogether.

"… Rassler..."

* * *

Author's Notes:

I LIIIIIIIIIIVEEE!!

Ok, I have to apologize for this insanely late update, but believe me, I've had the most insane 2-3 months of my life. It took me a while to get back to it as I completely lost it. Seriously. I think I need oiling or something. Gaaaaah. It's insane, I haven't read fics for months and I haven't written for months, it's almost like I had been in jail. (near it actually, it's the hell/jail called "law school") At this point, I think many readers have given up on this story/not into it/forgotten it already but, well, a promise is a promise. I shall finish this even if it takes me years (but then it won't really take that long… I hope…) I'm on break for a few weeks, and I swear I'd go on overdrive just to produce the next chapters ASAP. (but then I'm so behind my reading list… so many fics, so little time.) Anyway, at this point I think I would have to put a 1 sentence synopsis for each chapter just to remind you what had been happening.

1- Ashe gets amnesia, Basch is tasked by Larsa to guard her until she regains her memory

2- Ashe and Basch are in friendlier terms and Ashe decides to be called "Amalia" (a simple girl from Rabanastre) for the time being

3- A&B reach the Phon Coast and are told to kill a mark to be eligible to stay there. Basch realizes Ashe has forgotten about Rassler

4- Basch fights the mark, they meet Amon for the first time, and Basch realizes that Ashe hasn't forgotten Balthier

5- the "porridge-scene" and Ashe tells Basch that they should pretend to be husband and wife

6- Ashe sees the ring in her finger, she and Basch talk about Rassler, the "villain" is shown for the first time

7- Ashe enjoys her life in the Phon coast, Basch hesitates/still feels that it's wrong, but eventually accepts it

8- Basch remembers teaching Ashe how to swim, A&B play in the beach and make a promise to each other, and 1st kiss (sort of)

9- Ashe has a nightmare about Basch, Basch finally admits to himself that he is in love with Ashe

10- Balthier and Fran come to pick A&B up, Ondore thinks about what his "spy" has been reporting to him (possible romance of A&B) Ashe realizes that she loves Basch and Basch has an emo moment. (har har, 1st grave one of many and basically all the chapters after this is filled with emo Basch.)

11- Ashe gets abducted by Aitor, Balthier doubts Amon, Ashe remembers everything in an instant

12-Amon and Basch and company rescue Ashe, information about the nethicite is revealed, Basch and Ashe have a "moment"

13- Larsa saves the day. Aitor ultimately goes nuts.

14- Basch remembers/dreams of a happy moment in the Phon coast, Fran tells Basch that Ashe does not remember anything

15-Basch and Ashe try to cope with their "new lives"

Ok, that's it. I hoped that helped. I'm going to put an educational part next time, I promise! Well, until then. Thanks so much to all those who have reached this far. Thank you 100x! I don't know what to do to make ammends for my utter suckage except to try harder (I mean it! KAIZEN!)


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

The Judge Magister glanced at the note wired to him by his lord once more, as he found himself in the middle of a corridor filled with diplomats, wondering faintly if he actually misunderstood it. The emperor said that he was needed in the Marquis' residence immediately as though it were a matter of life and death, albeit details could not be disclosed as a matter of security. So hastily he followed orders, and now there he was, thinking that he was merely fooled. The politicians were scattered about, devouring hors d'oeuvres, discussing matters over a cup of tea, and looking as fine as the weather. This was the kind of thing he wanted to avoid, being a warrior by nature and not a statesman. But nevertheless he found himself there, dressed in full regalia, suddenly looking unwelcome and out of place.

It was not like the young emperor to call for him with urgency under such short notice. He was already deep within the Sochen Cave Palace when one of his judges brought him the short yet weighty message. Had it been about a matter of safety then he would have been too late, for even if he took the shortest way technology would allow from Archades to Bhujerba then a few hours would have passed anyway. Then again, if it had been a matter of safety, then the young man wouldn't have had the opportunity to send word. Nevertheless, the emperor was known to be responsible, and he did not take things lightly. Surely whatever he sent him for must have been quite urgent indeed. But where was Lord Larsa? Now that he thought about it, he had not seen the Marquis either. He had inquired about their whereabouts, but not even the servants knew…

"Judge Magister, we did not expect you to be here," he suddenly heard a man's voice from behind, "But it's a pleasure to finally meet your acquaintance." Soon, more voices followed, seeming to agree.

Great. Just what he needed. A dirty politician and his posse.

He was not new to such occasions, for he had participated in several banquets and closed-door meetings in the Dalmascan court in the past, though back then, his presence was either as a matter of courtesy or due to his military or tactical expertise. He went through functions enough to know the proper decorum, and the agonizing small talk and superficiality that came with it. Yet now as Judge Magister, he had been trained to know that it was yet another battleground, with delicate mines that may be triggered with carelessness, and new enemies that may be vanquished through massive amounts of patience and tact.

The group seemed to be a seasoned bunch, some of whom he even recognized from his old days as a knight. He was in the middle of his salutations when one of them suddenly spoke, "You're from the 9th bureau, are you not Magister? I can tell from your horns." Subtle laughter ensued, with him being the butt of the joke. Yet he could not complain, after all, he had been through far worse. Now it merely seemed like child's play, quite an immature one at that.

"Aye, the 9th bureau. I am _almost_ glad that you see me as more _down to earth_, _horns_ and all," somehow the armor made his voice sound deeper and more menacing, "With more _affable_ relations then my tasks, _both official or otherwise_, would conclude in a more _pleasant_ manner, don't you think?" Suddenly he wondered how Noah managed through such horrid affairs.

"Yes yes, of course." The man was slightly taken aback, his eyes widening for a brief instant. He coughed self-consciously and continued, "We are here for peace, are we not?" he hastily added, suddenly hoping to put out the fire he had lighted up. The Archadian Judge Magisters after all were not notorious for nothing.

"Most certainly," the other men echoed. They all seemed to be more cautious with their words, but like Pharisees, they still seemed to be intent on making a scene and possibly causing him to lose face. He was fair game to these veteran politicians; after all, he was merely a bureaucrat, wet behind the ears, serving a no less than a child. Not even the infamy of his positions can save him now.

He was about to excuse himself when another man spoke, "Today is quite special I believe, the Marquis invited the new monarchs of both Archadia and Dalmasca. Why, even the Rozarrian delegates have arrived."

Monarch of both Archadia and Dalmasca… suddenly he remembered why he wanted to avoid this conference in the first place.

"Oh yes, yes, the Queen Ashelia. She was indeed quite as beautiful as her mother was. A good queen, she would make," one of the older men said, making the others voice out their agreement. "…Although beauty could not rule a kingdom forever. How would she fare without a king or a prince regent at least beside her?"

"I suppose even the Dalmascan court started making arrangements. I would not be surprised when the offers start coming after this affair is over. For all we know, this conference might be nothing more than a soiree."

"Even I would make an offer," a lecherous-looking man spoke, much to Basch's dismay, "had I not been married that is."

"I could not blame you; after all, she is quite a woman."

"And that is quite a dowry!"

He could not believe what was just happening before him. These men were as cultured as the petty thieves in Lowtown. His armor was getting warmer and warmer by the second… he could not just stand there and…

"You do not have any impediments to marry Judge Magister, do you? Surely the Emperor is too young to seal an alliance." The man told him with such a straight face, "While your chances might be too slim as compared to the Rozarrians, a man of your stature should be able to conjure up something…"

That was the last straw.

"The queen had reclaimed her throne on account of her strength, among other things, and not her mere beauty, did she not?" he bit out, louder than he had intended, "You … or any man for that matter, have no right to talk of her in such a way…" _without facing my wrath_, he managed to stop himself before uttering the words, replacing it instead with "without arousing the ire of her countrymen, especially those who have seen her struggle and succeed over the years."

Unfazed by his comment, another man countered, "but she is still, just a mere woman."

Just a _mere_ woman? He could almost feel the mist in his hands. He was a level-headed man, yet he had always been impulsive when it concerned her. In fact, it was only a few years ago when he raised his sword against Ondore in that very same place just to reach her. He would fight for her; he would kill for her – fiends, criminals, chauvinists, to him there was no such distinction. He could easily let their insults against him slide… but when they've disparaged the very person he lo-…

No, it was not his place to love her… but all the more should he fight for her, to protect her as he always had… But he must control himself. Should he snap, the brunt of the burden will fall upon her as well. He could cause her no more pain. He knew what was going on. The politicians wanted to trip him to make him reveal how an Archadian Judge still supposedly looks down on the new Dalmascan Monarch. If he responded in the opposite way, they would still construe it against his favor as though he were disloyal to his liege and probably hungry for power – enough to consider uplifting his status by being the queen's prospective groom.

It took him a while to reply, while eyes remained intent on his response. The words kept on repeating on his mind, _just a mere woman_… still it continued to fuel his rage. But finally he was calm enough to speak. "Then be thankful that she is. As you already think so lowly of her as it is, then using the same analogy, had she been a man, she would have conquered all of Ivalice, and you, no doubt, would not be here right now."

It took all his strength to say the words, instead of unleashing his fury, "be thankful that she is a woman, for she is more generous and forgiving – her bloodlust is disproportionate to her vast capabilities."

"You think so highly of her Judge Magister, you must be-"

"How can I not? She had defeated my superior in an honorable battle in Bahamut, not too long ago." He cut the man off before he could say any more, "She may be inexperienced in the realm of politics relative to all of you, but she had seen a kingdom crumble, and has now proven herself to be a formidable foe." Different expressions could be seen from the men before him, and he was sure that once this confrontation reaches Zargabaath's ears, he would be harshly reprimanded by the more experienced Judge Magister. Yet at that point, he could not care less. Oaths are not so easily rescinded, especially when its subject had been too close to his heart.

"Gentlemen," the tense moments were abruptly ended by the Marquis' authoritative yet calming voice. Ondore suddenly stood before them, his hands raised as though he were ready to mediate in any brawl that might occur. "I believe that we must put this discourse on hold." The politicians acknowledged his presence immediately, or so it seemed, as they suddenly looked relaxed… or even remorseful.

Basch was almost awed by the sudden silence that he was not quite sure if he just made an irreparable faux pas. He was thankful for the Marquis' sudden appearance nonetheless because it would have stopped his getting subjected to more scrutiny and possibly saying more things that are susceptible to misconstruction. Yet when the men all started to look more respectful, some even saluting or bowing slightly, he realized that he may have missed something.

"Gentlemen," he heard another voice from behind the marquis, and he suddenly froze, for he recognized it instantly. He was almost afraid to turn around, yet in the end he did not have to, because mere seconds later she appeared on his view as she stood right in front of him, looking as beautiful as he had remembered. She looked at him for the briefest of moments and he remained powerless, unable to speak or to move his limbs. It was almost like he saw her only for the first time, and that he fell in love with her at first sight. The truth was far from that thought yet nevertheless, the feeling was similar, and it was like the memories of the coast, his moments with her, were suddenly unlocked from the coffers of his heart. He could almost feel her touching him; he could almost see the smile dancing in her lips; he could almost hear her, calling his name lovingly…

"Gabranth"

The curt word brought him back to reality. The name sounded so cold as it escaped her lips. Yet it was her way of recognizing his presence, and the only proper way she could address him. Suddenly, he realized that her eyes were not as warm as he had remembered, for surely she sees him only as what he was now - a man in armor, nothing but an empty shell.

"Highness"

His own words caused him pain. Yet that was how it truly was, wasn't it? She was but an unattainable dream, and he deserved no special place in her heart. His sentimentality was surely out of place. He thought he had settled the matter a long time ago but his treacherous heart had gone against his whole being once again. When would he ever learn? Perhaps he never would, and he is doomed to suffer for all eternity – a just payment for those wonderful moments he had spent with her.

Somehow as he was stupefied, he missed how the marquis convinced the delegates to retire for the day, as the conference was abruptly moved to another date due to a _very pressing matter_. Reluctantly, the politicians followed, and before he knew it, he found himself walking in an empty corridor with the queen by his side. He was not sure how it happened, or what was actually happening at the moment. Seeing her caused his world to stop, and whatever defenses he had put up all but crumbled as the inevitable pain filled his heart once again.

"Gabranth?"

Her voice was laced with more concern than she had intended when she realized that something was amiss. He remained silent all throughout Marquis Ondore's speech and he moved almost mechanically when prodded to move forward. She already asked several questions and yet he did not reply to a single one. "Gabranth, are you all right?"

"Highness… I am sorry, what were you saying?"

There truly was something wrong with him, she concluded as she listened to his almost wispy voice. Something tugged at her heart when she came to that realization. He was not always like this. He was always so strong, almost stoic. But now he just seemed so different… "I was asking if you were ill," she stopped and looked up to him, "Remove your helmet, if you please."

Slowly, tentatively, he reached up to pull out the thing effortlessly as she had requested, and soon, his face came to her view, his eyes downcast, and his skin having an almost grayish pallor to it.

Seeing him this way pained her in an inexplicable way, and she had the sudden urge to reach out to touch his face. Instead, she placed a hand in his arm, hoping to still him. "You do not look so well Gabranth. Are you all right?"

He looked at her and she saw his soft eyes for the first time in a long while, and memories of her youth came flashing back in her mind. Once they had looked at each other this way, when she was but a child and he was still a squire. Yet now he was much older, and so was she, and he was now dressed in the armor of the person who at one point she had loathed the most – her father's murderer. She must admit that she was still averse to the sight of the armor for the painful recollections that came with it. Yet as she looked at him now, with both warm and loathsome memories clashing in her mind, she could not help but be confused.

"I am all right, Highness, thank you."

She was still a bit lost in his eyes that her mind only refocused when he looked away. The action elicited another feeling from her unexpectedly, that a different sense of anger filled her heart. "You left without saying goodbye a few weeks ago. I did not know if you truly were all right."

His back straightened as if hit by lightning due to her words, and for a while he seemed almost unsure of how to reply. "I did not think it was proper for me to disturb you when you were preoccupied with so many important things… I am sorry if my sudden departure had upset you in any way."

"No, not at all," she replied, dismissing the issue. Her heart somehow softened at his words, and whatever anger she had quickly faded away. Instead, she had an urge to smile as she realized that he had not changed despite donning the persona of his brother. She must not doubt him any longer. He was that same man who vowed to protect her; he was the same man who risked everything, just for her. "I just never had the chance to thank you, that's all. Thank you for taking care of me back then," as you always have, she added to herself, fondly remembering the words he said in her defense a while ago… fondly remembering all those times he had done the same thing in the past.

There was a passing look of dejection in his eyes before he shook his head, as if saying it was nothing. With this he started walking forward and for a while they walked quietly side by side.

She expected him to say something more only to realize eventually that he probably would not. But that was how things were supposed to be, wasn't it? As she looked at his back, she thought of how everything was back in its place. In those few minutes they shared together, it was almost as if he was her protector once more, and she was his charge. Their terse exchanges and their distant closeness fit perfectly in the irony of their relationship – where he had been the only person she could trust her whole life with and she had been his reason for living - while at the same time being as close only as far as what their hierarchical relationship would allow. She could still remember his words in the Bahamut when his brother asked how he remained upright just as she could not forget all those times he remained quietly behind her back. And yet, after all those things, all she could do was to stay silent as she walked with him – he did not look like he could ask for more.

"It must have been uncomfortable for you… standing up for me, in front of all those men." It was not like it was his first time to do so, after all, he seemed to have repeatedly done almost impossible feats for her sake. He _seemed_ capable and _willing_ to give her _anything_, and _everything_ he had, and still he asked for nothing in return. She still could not understand _where his devotion_ _came from_, yet the humbling experience she had as she traveled Ivalice to reclaim her throne made her realize that it was not an easy thing to do. The loyalty he gave her was more than what a _monarch_ deserved from her _subject_, and perhaps, she'll never understand the depths of his feelings or the _exact nature_ of those feelings for that matter. "Perhaps back then… when I could not remember anything, I must have been a burden, with me being helpless. I… it must have been hard to be with me."

He stopped on his tracks as he gripped the sides of the slightly open door of Ondore's office. He looked down once more, somehow avoiding her gaze. There was a distant look in his eyes as he spoke in an almost dazed manner.

"It is actually harder… not to be with you."

His voice was faint that she barely heard it, what with the sound of the door opening as he spoke. From inside she heard some bantering, and she was no longer given a chance to ponder on what he just said, but surely, his words somehow touched her heart in a way she could not explain. She felt the loneliness in them, and out of the blue, she wanted to call him back and… "Gabranth, I…"

The room fell silent, as four pairs of eyes were suddenly focused on her. She returned the gaze of the two men, as she saw them side by side for the first time. Both had the eyes of a man so familiar and yet so different from the one she had always known. Both had supposedly left her life, gone from it forever. And yet… they each rekindled a different feeling from her heart altogether.

"Gabranth, I would like you to meet Amon, though I believe introductions aren't really necessary."

Basch looked at the man he just wanted to see. But it was odd, now that he stood amongst them, with Lord Larsa and Marquis Ondore…and Ashe, his present and immediate past were suddenly meshed together in an almost inappropriate way.

"Basch! It is you!" Amon exclaimed, confirming that he truly was before him and not just a figment of his imagination. "Could you believe what these people are saying? They think me to be some sort of royal!"

"Lady Ashe even mistook him for Prince Rasler," Larsa suddenly spoke from behind him, "It is possible. The historians may confirm this fact. What with the information being sent to the 9th bureau, Gabranth, surely there is some credence to this theory!"

Marquis Ondore proceeded to tell him of what just happened, from Amon's employment as his spy, to the events that transpired in the Barheim passage. As he listened, Basch could not stop himself from glancing at Ashe, seeing her bemused expression still directed towards Amon.

"Aitor must have been referring to him when he talked of the person he thought he regretfully killed," the young emperor spoke once more, "and he could not have stopped Raithwall's nethicite had he not possessed Raithwall's blood himself."

Basch looked at the man in question, and saw his helpless eyes. "I do not really understand what you people are talking about, but this is insane. I have no idea where I came from, but surely, I'm not related to the Dynast King."

He looked at him more closely and realized that there truly was a resemblance between him and Prince Rasler. How could he have missed this…? It was the same light colored hair, big and round sapphire eyes, the strong albeit average build… what was to happen now? What was she feeling now? "Amon… the wind god. It was the name given to you was it not?" He remembered the details of that last night when they have been drinking together, when life had been much simpler, when they have been nothing but good friends. "Heios was Lord Rasler's second name, it stood for the sun god… his uncle was Caelestis … named after the god of the sky…" he mumbled as if on a trance.

Larsa seemed as excited as any adolescent would be in that situation, "That's right! Caelestis. He was said to have fallen in love with a maiden from Dalmasca…"

"Amalia." The men all looked at her again when she uttered the name.

"The Dalmascan maiden, her name was Amalia. She was a cousin of my father. I remember now. Her devotion to her country was so strong that she set all things aside, including Caelestis' love." That was why she chose that name for her alter-ego when she had been part of the resistance. She was a woman of substance – one who fought for her nation despite losing everything else.

"Her name was Amalia?" Larsa was elated to hear that Ashe knew about the Dalmascan maiden herself. "Some historians said that they possibly got together in the end, and they produced a child," he then countered as the puzzle pieces started to come together.

"Wait, just hold on a moment here," Amon was suddenly in between the two, ready to intervene. "So you're saying, that theoretically, had I really been a royal as you have been insisting for hours now, then my parents would supposedly be this Caelestis and this Amalia."

"Amalia never married, she died fighting for Dalmasca," Ashe interjected, yet she stopped when Amon raised his hand.

"Theoretically," the hunter emphasized the word, "Then I would have hailed from Nabradia… but my supposed mother had been from Dalmasca. If my supposed cousin was her former husband; and my supposed mother was her father's cousin… what does that make us exactly?"

"Newfound allies," Marquis Ondore finally spoke as he stood among them. "Larsa, you do know the implications of this theory of yours don't you?"

The young emperor nodded, but briefly he added, "We cannot move, until we are certain." He then looked at his guardian as if giving him a silent order to react.

He looked at the people in the room once more, his gaze lingering on Amon, and how Ashe now looked at him with a curious expression. The scene was familiar. It reminded him of that time, several years ago, when he saw her with the Nabradian Prince for the first time.

"Amon, they might be right," was all he could say as he still felt overwhelmed with what has been happening.

"They _might_ be! But seriously – me? A prince?"

"Amon, please." To Basch, Ashe's voice was soft, almost pleading. For a while she seemed most unconvinced of Larsa's theory and yet as she looked at him more and more… perhaps fate was jesting once again.

"I will get to the bottom of this. I would not rest until this issue had been resolved." Judge Magister Gabranth said with finality as he replaced the helmet on his head, blocking away his other thoughts, blocking away the sight of Ashe's gaze on someone else. "Amon, come with me, please."

The man stood up, his stance stiff, and his expression serious. They remained face to face for a while, as what seemed to be an unspoken agreement passed between the two men. Finally he nodded, and compliantly walked with the Judge, not even uttering a single word. Larsa observed the exchange, and seeing that they had no plans of turning back, he decided to subtly excuse himself from the Marquis and the Queen of Dalmasca as he trailed behind the two men.

Ashe remained in one corner, as the men passed her by, without even sparing her a glance. Everything was suddenly over before she could even realize. She then felt so empty… and she could not figure out the reason why.

It was only later when she realized what it was.

_He_ left without saying goodbye to her once again.

_

* * *

_

_He did not expect to see her there as he was saddling up his Chocobo. In fact, the sight of her seemed so out of place, considering the fact that she still wore the same gown he saw her in when the king formally gave his blessing to his troops before they finally depart for Nalbina. Her eyes seemed to sparkle for a brief moment when it met his and for a while he stood still, not quite sure of what to do. _

"_Your Highness, I shall fetch Lord Rasler immedia-"_

"_You do not have to Captain Basch," she approached him then, a bit tentatively at first, until she finally added, "It was you who I wanted to see."_

_If her words surprised him, he did not show it. He merely stood still, his expression unwavering as he solemnly said, "I promise you, I would protect Lord Rasler to the best of my…"_

"_Captain Basch," she cut him off again as she finally walked closer to him when she figured that he was not about to move from where he stood. "I already know that. I just came here because… well…"_

_He stood in attention then as he waited for her to continue. Seeing her was almost like a blessing, yet at the same time, the feeling it gave him made him unsure of how to properly receive it._

"_I have not talked to you in a long while. Today you would depart for Nalbina again. Did you not even think of saying goodbye?" it sounded almost like an accusation, yet there was no vehemence whatsoever in her voice. There was only a tinge of sadness in them. "Please don't mind me," she hastily added before he could even apologize, "I know it is bad luck, especially since you are going off to war. I am here to wish you luck, and to let you know that I am hoping for your safe return."_

"_Your highness…"_

_The man before her did not really have anyone to go back home to. The soldiers still had their homeland and their families waiting for them, and Rasler had her. Since she was a child, the knight's return had always been a selfish affair – as it seemed as though she was the only one who benefited from it. Whenever Basch has returned, he can be there for her once again. She was not completely naïve to miss that he had drifted away from her gradually as she got older. Perhaps now that she truly belonged to someone else, he might think that she no longer needed him altogether. This was a thought that bothered her up until that moment, for it was so far from the truth. She was suddenly afraid that he might not return…_

"_All I could give Rasler was a promise of a welcoming kiss," she had a hint of a smile in her face then, "but then, my happiness for seeing you back, alive and well, is still an incentive reserved for you."_

_His expression brightened up in an instant. "There is nothing more that I could ask for," he bent down then as he solemnly kneeled before her, "Thank you, your highness." Perhaps she'll never know the gladness her kind words brought to his heart. _

_It felt awkward how she could not give him anything more (though she sincerely wanted to) as they remained distant, untouching, even when all around her people were suddenly closer than they've ever been. She was well aware of how it felt like, when she could not tear away her gaze from her husband, when she did not want to let go. Basch was just as important to her, yet she knew she could not treat him the same way. It did not matter how he had been a friend to her through all those years. It did not matter that he taught her things she could never learn from anyone else. The distance would always be there between them, yet at the same time, he would remain close to her heart. _

"_Very well then, I shall wait for your return," slowly, painfully, she handed him the reins of his Chocobo. "Do take care."_

_He got on it in one swift movement and he bowed to her solemnly. He looked at her lingeringly for a moment, as if he were memorizing each detail on her face, or trying to remember all the memories they shared. _

_Soon he was off and she felt her heart sink to hear stomach. Trying to steel herself, she blinked away her unshed tears and prayed for their safety. _

_They would return to her, both of them would, she whispered to herself, and that was why they had no reason to say goodbye._

* * *

Author's Notes:

Baaah. It's hard to write one emo chapter after the other. Baaah. But it cannot be helped. Sadness is needed to appreciate joy don't you think?

As for the trivia portion, I've decided to put 3 things to think about once more (there are spoilers though…)

1. The FF12 logo is quite similar to that of the FF4 logo. Do you know why? As we all know, FF12's logo has Gabranth in it. In the original FF4 logo on the other hand, the character placed there was Kain Highwind (the love of my life!) Both characters were dynamic in the sense that they were evil at one point, betraying their friends, yet in the end, they changed and found retribution. (and of course, they both had badass armors and very blonde hair…) FF4's new logo is more similar to FF12's not only design-wise but also concept wise. Golbez is Cecil's evil older brother, who also changed for the better towards the ending of FF4. So there.

2. Speaking of parallels, as we all know, three sets of brothers are featured in FF12. Of the 3 sets, only Basch was the surviving _older_ brother (Noah called him "nii-san" in the Japanese version). The relationships of the 3 different brothers were also different, and somehow highlighted the feature of the other. But in their designs, affinity as well as contrasting features seemed to be hinted by way of their hairstyles. One brother had a smooth, "clean" look, while the other brother had a spiky and more "Japanese" look. Again, by way of exception, Basch is the only older brother with the messy hairdo (Larsa and Vaan had the messy, "modern" hairdos) Maybe that's why he had to change it in the end… (and why Noah had to change his at one point too) hmmm?

3. Ok, this isn't really a trivia but something odd from me… Is it just me or does Marquis Halim Ondore IV look a lot like (an old version of) Ken Hirai?! (especially in the ending FMV)

So that is all for now. Thank you for reading!


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

The Nalbina Fortress had changed so much since he had last been there, although the structure remained quite the same. He figured it was because the circumstances that brought him there now were quite different from what had been. How could he forget the place where his life changed forever? The sky that loomed over Nalbina fortress was anything but dark now as everything seemed brighter even in the ground below. The blood of those who fought and died had all been washed away, and the fortress that once was now seemed fit enough to be a city where people can live peacefully with nothing but a memory of the war that passed. The rebuilding was almost finished and the whole city would be open to the public soon enough. It was a fitting time indeed for him to return. It was almost ironic too, how now it seemed like the wrong twin was in the same place once more, while being in fact the same person.

Judge Magister Gabranth no longer pretended to be his brother. He did not have to. No king was to be slain that day, and no knight was to be dishonored.

The knight does not even exist any longer. Yet surprisingly, there still could be a king, yet to be born.

"So this is the place huh?" the voice shook him out of his reverie. He did not have to turn around to see who it was. Amon simply stood behind him, leaning on one of the columns as he stared at the empty chair in the middle of the room. "This is the place where Ashe's father died."

"Aye," the judge magister replied, his voice almost inaudible. The memories were like daggers, piercing his heart. He never realized that it would still be painful despite all the years that had passed and all the pardons that had been granted.

"Tell you what. If I become the owner of this place, I promise you, I'll turn it into an… armory! Or better yet, I'll just have this whole wall removed and turn it into a terrace or something…"

"I am sure you would be capable of doing that in due time." He glanced at the empty chair one last time then he turned and faced his companion, "The Archadian Senate is already discussing the immediate turnover of the Kingdom of Nabradia as we speak, Mithras."

The hunter almost winced when he heard the name. "Very funny, _Gabranth_, it's still Amon you know," he grumbled as he realized how Mighty felt when he was called by what the hunters called his _sissy name_, "but what the heck, I'd prefer you calling me by a name than hearing another one of your respectful titles."

"Mithras Amon Nabradia. The name suits you." It took a while to get used to, but Basch thought that he did look princely now as he looked at him. He was not groomed to be prince since he was born, unlike the other monarchs he had the pleasure to come across, but he noticed that he had the same quality they all had. He had the bearing, the charisma. While the clothes did not always make the man, the robes he wore made Amon look like a prince at that moment and Basch did not even need to be prodded to be convinced. "Your parents have chosen well. "

"Honestly, I still think those crazy old geezers made it up." Perhaps the way he spoke still needed to be … refined. "The Archadian researchers could not even discern what it was. What if they just thought of a name and said it was what was written?"

"The scimitar was crafted in Nabudis. It is one of the proofs of your lineage. The engraved name in Lord Rasler's sword could not be discerned by the Archadian scholars either; yet they acknowledged its similarities with your weapon."

Amon was silent for a while, as if he accepted Basch's argument. Idly, he walked toward the middle of the room and sat on the chair where Raminas died. It was then when he spoke once more. "It is still odd don't you think? My life changed because of a stone. My life … it suddenly ended and a new one began in just a snap. Hanta, it comes with a new role, a new home, heck, it even comes with a new name!"

He knew the feeling too well.

While his transition from Basch to Gabranth had been a quicker and almost spotless one, Amon's transition had been more complicated. There were doubts and threats; truths shifted from falsities and vice versa. Cynics and loyalists clashed – men of science and spirits among other ethereal things all worked to get the answers. He handled it all, one sleepless night after the other. Finally, after a month of hard work, logic and absurdity seemed to come together and the experts finally agreed on the subject regarding the hunter's identity.

Thus Mithras Amon Nabradia, son of Rhaion Caelestis Nabradia and Amalia, daughter of Dalmasca, was born.

"I wonder how the Nabradians would react, I mean, a few years ago a princess died and suddenly came back to life to become a queen. And now… A prince who never existed is suddenly born." He shook his head then, "Hanta, I still could not believe it myself. I could almost see them all laughing back in the coast. This is the biggest farce yet! To think I had always been known to be honorable despite everything! This will completely ruin my reputation!"

"You are indeed honorable Amon," Basch had the sudden urge to smile then, as the hunters briefly entered his mind, "the rumors have started to circulate and more people are springing up, hoping to have the same fate as yours –but your birthright has been established. No one else could take this away from you. The other hopefuls would inevitably be revealed to be imposters. It seems as though you even have an advantage over … the queen, for she did not have one as proof when she reclaimed her throne. The stones the occuria gave the Dynast king had all been destroyed prior to her restitution."

"Birthrights," Amon mumbled under his breath once more. More of Raithwall's nethicites have been found underground within the Nabradian territory, and his newfound "patriots" have acknowledged this to be fate. Local schools of mineralogy had resurfaced as well, thanks to these developments. While the stones have been extracted, not exactly in his favor, he supposed it was not that bad nonetheless. "If you finally decide to _expose_ me and I fumble in the exorcising of Nabudis, then this craziness would all be over and I can go back to my old life. I'll be nothing but a hunter again. Maybe I'll go in hiding for a while but eventually I'll…"

"It will be fine, Amon. I believe it would be so." There was no turning back now. Amon's lineage had been the very reason why he was still living at that moment. He had the power to harness Raithwall's nethicites through his will and blood. His secret had been revealed and it was only just that he reclaimed what was truly his. "They are right. Even I can see that you truly are from the house of Nabradia. Your blood, your features cannot lie."

"Features…? See?" Amon smirked when he suddenly realized that Basch was in that spot he wanted to trap him in for so long. While he did not exactly like the idea of looking like a dead man, the idea was a good way to open up what seemed to be a buried topic. "You also believe that I look like _him_ don't you?"

"Him?"

"Ama- I mean, Ashe's husband."

He had seen the way she looked at _him_. He was not blind, not blind at all. "I honestly did not think so at first, but now I clearly see the resemblance."

"Resemblance" Amon was not blind either. He knew that what _she_ saw bothered _him_ more than what _he_ actually led people to believe. "Do you think this is all right Basch? First she sees me looking like him, soon she'd see me in his guise, in his position. Then what?"

"She had gotten over her loss …"

"Which one?" he exclaimed, a bit exasperated, as he had been suppressing the urge to knock the man senseless for his utter denseness. "I believe there are two."

Basch looked at him for a few seconds until he focused on the ground once more. There was pain in his eyes, as well as anger. Yet his slumped shoulders gave Amon the full story.

"She's confused, that's for sure. You know what she asked me the last time we were together? She asked me if I spent time with her, if I walked by the shores with her." He paused as he remembered her pleading eyes. Despite everything, she was just as vulnerable as he remembered her from the coast. "She has an image of a man in her head Basch, she remembers you!"

Could it be? The knight was surprised to say the least. Did she remember _their_ cottage? Did she remember the sandcastle by the sea? Did she remember the promise they made before the setting sun? Did she remember the footsteps they left in the sand? Did she remember… did she still feel his love for her…?

"No." the curt word was heavy, strong, and stubborn most of all. "And please, call me Gabranth. The people might hear…"

"Then let them. At least they are not as deaf as you are." He stood up sharply then and moved to stand in front of the judge, hoping to block his way should he decide to escape. "Do you know the position I am in right now? She thinks I am the embodiment of her lost loves. She sees me as Rasler, she hopes I am you. But clearly, I am not! Sure I may have Rasler's face, but you… Gabranth, Basch, no matter what your name is, you are you."

_How can you be? You are Basch._

_That's just it. I am Basch._

No. That side of him may never exist again – that side of him that existed only for the moment, without a past and without the future. She might have loved him because she did not think he caused her pain. She might have loved him because she could not remember his appearance and participation in the other tragedies of his life. He may never love her again because it was no longer his place, after he realized how much he had hurt her, how much he _could_ hurt her still.

"You are mistaken, I am nothing to her. She does not love _me_. She never did."

"How can you be so blind!" Amon's hand had crumpled into a fist and he almost hit him. How can he let him go on like this when it was clear for everyone to see that they were made for each other? This task was starting to become more annoying… and more painful than what he had anticipated. "How can you deny this from yourself? Ashe… she… she's something else! Can't you see how precious she is? If I had truly been the man she loved, I wouldn't let her suffer like this."

His vehement words hit Basch in another way altogether. Did Amon possibly like her as well? It was not unlikely, for he knew how precious she was, he knew all too well. Amon was a good man, he knew. They may not have spent as much time together, but he was sure that he would make a good king – he could rule beside the woman _he_ loved. He may not be as refined or what she had expected but… he was a diamond in the rough. Unlike him, this man never hurt her before, and he possibly never will. They have a bright future ahead of them.

"You still have a chance Amon. You can be that man now."

"And you are willing to throw all that away?" he grabbed his shoulders then and shook him forcefully. "That time… that time in the Phon Coast, when we were faced with the mark. You gave her up so easily. You entrusted her to me so easily. How do you know that I won't hurt her, huh? Maybe… maybe you don't deserve her so much after all."

"I do not. And that is the truth." He said flatly, not even bothering to struggle against Amon's grasp. "Speaking of which…you told me that night … you said you still owed me for saving your life…"

"For heaven's sake…you-"

"Make her happy. That is all I ask."

His words urged Amon to grab the edges of the judge's cape and he had the sudden urge to strangle him, yet Basch's eyes remained downcast, still filled with pain and self-loathing. What was he to do with this stubborn man?

"I guess it cannot be helped," he sighed as he gradually let go. "Such an obstinate man… I wonder what she found in you…"

When he moved out of his view, Basch suddenly closed his eyes, pushing back his unshed tears. It was going to be all right now. Everything would be fine, he thought. This would be the best way to secure Ashe's happiness. She will be all right. "I shall be taking my leave, Mithras."

He sighed loud enough for the judge to hear, yet he continued walking nonetheless. Just as he was a few inches from the door Amon finally called out, stopping him in his tracks. "Gabranth, perhaps I'll not make this an armory or a terrace after all." The judge turned around and looked at him then, slightly confused, thus he continued. "This room, I mean. I'll make a memorial instead."

The Judge Magister nodded, letting the prince know that he agreed. "It is your realm after all; you can do as you please. The queen would appreciate that. It is a good gesture to honor King Raminas."

"I did not really think of him, but now that you mention it, yes, I shall include one for him." He walked a few steps away from the empty chair in the room. "Here. I'll put it here. A memorial for Basch Von Ronsenburg. Fallen knight of the Dalmascan Order."

He stiffened at Amon's words, not quite sure if it had been meant as an insult or something else. "A traitor does not deserve such an honor."

"Who said anything about honor?" he crossed his arms then, looking at him challengingly, "it will be the mark of a fool - the greatest fool of all time." He smiled wryly, seeming to be pleased with himself, "you said so yourself, it is _my_ realm, and I can do whatever it is I want to do with it."

With this Basch nodded again, as if he understood what he said perfectly. Soon he bowed and finally left the room.

Amon suddenly found himself with this problem in his hands. Oddly enough, he started looking forward to its resolution. "I wonder what she'll have to say about that." He chucked as he started making plans in his head. "She definitely wouldn't mind. I bet she'd agree with me completely."

* * *

To say that things in Dalmasca had been hectic would be more of an understatement. Amon's existence is yet to be announced for everyone to hear and yet the different issues that would arise out of his presence had been nagging her incessantly already. The chamber of commerce is already troubled with what the future handover of Nabradia could bring. Technically, Dalmasca had power over Nabradia in lieu of her marriage to its supposed last monarch, yet now that her marriage had been dissolved due to Rasler's death, and a new monarch from a new line had resurfaced, the hold of ownership her kingdom had over Nabradia had ceased to exist. The trading borders would be established once more and another union might have to be forged.

Advisers from her court already told her of the possible threats to her position. Amon's parentage had complicated things even further. Technically, he hailed from both kingdoms – and from the monarchial lines at that. Her advisers fear that should he decide to usurp her power, he would be most successful in doing so for two main reasons. In terms of pedigree, he was a relatively more suitable monarch for her own mother was only from a rich political family from Bhujerba and not of royal blood. Secondly, his other advantage came in the form of his gender. The world of politics was still dominated by men, and even her people were more inclined to look up to a male leader. Amon's origins may not have been as clearly established as hers, but that does not necessarily mean that he won't be accepted by the people. Now that he was not yet even introduced formally to Ivalice, rumors about him made her very unpopular already.

Thus, talks of marriage had begun once more. Her most loyal advisers think this to be the best option. It did not matter that he was her husband's cousin. It did not matter that they were distantly related. To seal Nabradia and Dalmasca's alliance, she was being asked to marry once more – and now, her prospective groom's party had not even said a word! It was almost as if her subjects wanted her to court him instead.

She was insulted by these talks to say the least… yet; she did not find it completely appalling. She had been conveniently married off before, what difference would a second marriage make? Yet she was a woman of her own now. She learned how it was to live alone. She knew how to be strong, and she already vowed to give her life to Dalmasca. But this new marriage…

She did not know much about Amon, but then again, she didn't know much about Rasler either before she married him. From what little she knew about him, she could tell that he was very much like her husband, while at the same time… if he had been that man – that man she had been looking for in her dreams, then perhaps he is … perhaps they would… perhaps she will… learn to love him.

She asked him about the Phon Coast, but he always replied mysteriously, as if he hid something from her. It was clear in his eyes that he wanted to tell her a story… he wanted to tell her so much more. Perhaps they shared the same feelings? Perhaps he held the key to her lost memories?

Basch on the other hand had been different (or rather, indifferent) when she asked him about the Phon Coast. He gave her direct replies, curt replies. At times he even seemed bored. Sometimes he seemed unable to answer her questions at all, as if_ he did not know_ how _to_ answer them. Perhaps they truly_ did not share anything special then_.

They never really did after all, even in her childhood years.

Never?

Who was she fooling? Moments with Basch had been anything but mundane. Lately, she had been recalling so many things about him, about the time they spent together. He was with her when she was happy, when she was sad, when she was in pain… especially when she was in pain. He had always been by her side – and now that she thought about it, that might have been the reason why his supposed betrayal hurt her so much.

She would not have lasted the ordeal of their last quest had he not been there. His quiet presence was there to comfort her, even when she did not want it. He did not have to speak to let her now that he feels for her. He was always just there to listen, to be behind her. Even when she had to be strong, he was still there; ready to comfort her, ready to receive her weakness. Despite everything, he remained the same, as he had been that way ever since.

Surely he had acted the same way in the Phon Coast.

Agitated, she suddenly wanted some answers once more. At the back of her mind, issues regarding Nabradia and Amon continued to nag her still. Amon… who was he really? What role is he to play in her life? Was he really the man she was looking for?

It was strange, she suddenly realized. The more she thought of Amon, the more did she think of Basch. Now that she thought about it, she had been thinking a lot about him lately… his presence… those memories she had back then - memories she had buried in her mind after she learned to hate him… but are now resurfacing because … because…

She did not really know why.

Perhaps she missed him.

It was ironic how her memory had been playing with her as of late. Things she had forgotten are replaced with things she had just remembered.

What were they not telling her? What was it that she needed to know… she yearned to know? What are the missing pieces to the puzzle?

That was it. She needed to know the truth - the full truth. Amon and Basch both held the key. Surely one of them would be gracious enough to give it to her. She would get what she wants, no matter what it takes.

* * *

_Despite her position as the princess of Dalmasca, it was her first time to be in a large city such as Archades. The capital was so different from Rabanastre but it was just as grand. She felt uncharacteristically timid as she walked down the streets in her filthy clothes as the prim and primped Archadian locals passed by. She never knew she would ever think so, but at that moment, she suddenly wished she was just as brazen as her younger companions. _

_Vaan and Penelo went their usual way, running around without a care in the world, looking excited and thrilled with the new sight that was before them. She did not bother trying to catch up with them for she knew it would be futile. Instead she decided to walk, almost leisurely behind them. _

"… _You know what's amazing? I thought I'd go my whole life without meeting people like the Princess, or Lord Larsa. And here we are in the capital!" She heard Penelo's voice when she was finally within her hearing range. She was relatively shy compared to her friend Vaan, she thought, but then she truly was a sweet girl. She was not as timid as the palace maids, and yet she was not pompous like the other girls she met in royal gatherings years ago. Now that she thought about it, she felt the same way as she did. She never thought that she'd meet people like her, like Vaan, like Balthier or Fran. She never thought she'd be on a journey with these people. Not only did she fight alongside them but she also lived with them for the past few months. They had been comrades. They have become friends. Years as a princess told her that that was something hard to find in her whole lifetime._

"_I know! It's a little over my head sometimes," Vaan replied in his usual way, albeit sounding a bit calmer than usual. _

"_Good, Vaan. You've come to understand the difficulties of serving royalty."_

_Basch was suddenly before the two, looking more at ease than usual. She had not seen him like this for the longest time. His stance was relaxed, with his hand on Vaan's shoulder; even his voice seemed to be more lighthearted. She felt odd whenever she saw him this way – whenever she saw him acting like an older brother or a mentor to Vaan and Penelo. It brought her back to her younger years, when everything was not as complicated; when she and Basch had been quite like how they were. _

_And yet… his words struck a cord in her heart. Difficulties of serving loyalty? For a moment, she had the urge to question him, but then she shook her head, realizing that he was in fact telling the truth. Surely, his task had been a difficult one; after all, she knew how difficult she could really be. But was that it? Was his presence beside her simply a part of his tour of duty? Had it been that way all these years?_

"_Hey, I'm just along for the ride."_

"_That wasn't a complaint, was it, Basch?"_

_She suddenly had to look at the knight to hear his reply. This was something she has got to see. His stance stiffened in an instant, and he suddenly coughed as if to clear his throat. _

"_Right. Let's get moving," he said awkwardly._

"_Hey, don't change the subject!" Penelo's words did not help at all. She had a mischievous smile in her face, and Vaan was chuckling behind her. _

"_Right."_

_Their laughing became infectious and soon she found herself smiling. Basch chose that moment to look back, eyes still looking timid. When he realized that she was looking at him, he looked away just as quickly and tried to re-immerse himself in the conversation with Penelo and Vaan. The two looked back and saw her looking at them as well. With a grin, they decided to run off, with the intention to leave the poor man alone. He moved slightly, yet whatever words he was going to utter to stop the two was stuck in his throat. Conceding, he crossed his arms and sighed, loud enough for her to hear._

_Truly, it must have been difficult, even in the most insouciant sense – as seen by the awkwardness Basch displayed, and she couldn't blame him. She decided she should not make it harder for him any longer. _

_She walked past him and when she was a few steps away, she looked back, a small smile still in her face as she tilted her head as if urging him to move on. He walked quietly behind her once again, and all seemed to be back to normal. But then, the question continued to nag her. Had he truly been suffering all this time?_

"_Your injury, does it still pain you?" she asked suddenly, breaking the silence, "you were hit pretty badly in the cave palace. It must have hurt."_

"_Nay," he replied, his tone serious as always. _

"_I… never got to thank you for saving me back there. Thank you for shielding me," she said softly but loud enough for Basch to hear. Telling him that still felt slightly embarrassing for it was almost like admitting that she somehow depended on him. Her time at the Resistance taught her how to act on her own. For a while, she did not need anyone to defend her, but seeing that he did, whether she liked it or not, seemed to be something she had learned to accept over time. _

_He made a soft sound as he nodded, and she happened to see a satisfied expression on his face as she turned around to glance at him. Serving her had been an almost thankless job, and he nearly got himself killed countless of times already. It did not help that she used to hate it whenever he did so just to protect her either. These thoughts made it harder for her to forget his words a few minutes ago and she still found herself to be slightly bothered… _

_  
"I wouldn't mind you know," she started, unsure of how to tell him how she felt, "if you complained."_

"_I beg your pardon?"_

_She stopped walking and looked at him then. "You are right. I am difficult to serve, but I thank you all the same - for being with me, despite my current situation."_

_A surprised expression briefly crossed his features and he looked like he had a difficulty coming up with an appropriate reply. _

_Just when she was about to walk away, he finally said, "It was not as if it had been an ordeal. It was actually far from it." He stopped as he suddenly found himself in a moment of hesitation. Nonetheless, he managed to add, "… it was always a pleasure to be by your side."_

_She smiled once more at his honesty, for he rarely showed her his feelings. A pleasure to be by her side… her worries started to subside. After a while though, she shook her head as she remembered all those things they have been through…all those battles they fought, all those escapades… the bickering, the scheming… all those times she had been unkind to him. "Was it also a pleasure when I… when we saw each other in Leviathan?" she suddenly remembered how foolishly she had acted, and now, her anger against him had completely disappeared, leaving her nothing but a memory to tease him (and herself) with._

_He smiled then, seeming to catch on with her train of thought, "the pain reminded me that you were alive and so was I – so I would not consider that an exception." _

"_Then you truly must have a penchant for pain," she chuckled as she turned around and started walking once more, "'Tis a shame, Vaan and Penelo wish to be sky pirates, and not become like a duty-obsessed knight such as yourself."_

"_Obsession, nay," Basch spoke as he kept up with her, uncharacteristically bolder than usual. "I suppose I just like the thrill of a challenge."_

"_A challenge or a yoke?" she then asked, trying to get him to admit that he feels the difficulty of his position. "And what could be your reward for all this perchance?" _

_He seemed taken aback, as he made that same sound he made when Penelo caught him off-guard earlier. She thought she had gone too far and was about to change the topic when he suddenly replied, "Perhaps earning your favor and possibly lessening the likelihood of my… er… facing your wrath again." _

_She gasped, a bit indignant, but was surprised to see Basch with a timid, yet warm expression that her eyes softened once more. "So I suppose you believe that the second time is not a charm?"_

"_I know not. But I am not so inclined to find out." Just then she heard some giggling behind them, and sure enough, Vaan and Penelo had evidently been listening to their conversation. Balthier seemed to be smirking as well. _

_Often she envied these people for leading normal lives – one she sometimes wished for. She envied them for being capable of forging relationships, friendships that are easily made but would last a lifetime. Yet in the few minutes she spent talking to Basch… it seemed as though she was not his liege… he was not her knight. It was almost as if they shared a joke between friends. They were friends, just like they've always been. This journey had been filled with such moments. This one was just one of many – and she was grateful._

_And with Basch… it was almost as if they were back in Dalmasca again – at that time when he possibly could not invoke her wrath. Perhaps he never really did deserve it – she figured he never would. _

"_That's well and good then," she nodded, "I am not so inclined to hit you again either." With this, they all started to laugh and the passers-by of Archades were suddenly curious to find out what was so funny. _

* * *

Author's Notes:

I liiiive!! I have to thank my professors' busy schedules. I've had 3 free cuts in a week and that is one big miracle. Anyway...

For the educational part weellll…This might be a bit icky, but I was looking at Basch's picture some time ago and I realized that there was something peculiar about his scar. See, it runs from the middle of his forehead to his ear right? Squall and Seifer (of FF8) taught us that scars seem to taper towards the end so we somehow know the stroke of the blow… and well, it doesn't help that CGI made scars taper on both ends so it is possible that the blow could've come from anywhere (of course Seifer and Squall's scars were facing different directions and were inflicted in different angles so we actually know what happened…) But then I think I have a theory (with my zero knowledge of forensics) that Basch was actually hit from above (which makes it downward) with a right side stroke. (now this theory actually has no relevance at all… except to crazy fangirls I suppose… or to those who want to make a Basch torture fic/fanart.) Why do I say this? Well… see, with a scar that big, and no medical attention, if it had been a left side upward stroke then his earlobe would've been chopped off! I mean… I find it amazing that his earlobe is even intact at all. The tissue is too thin to actually have a scar looking that deep! Er…right. This just shows that videogames aren't very visually realistic so we should stop looking for real people looking like videogame characters (*wail!*)

Anyway… On another note. This one is pretty obvious but, doesn't Larsa look a hell lot like Little Lord Fauntleroy (or at least in that Blue Boy Painting)? It's a ripoff, I'm telling you.

Anyway, again, I would like to thank all those who've read this, even just for the educational part. Haha. (though I hope that thing with Basch's ear didn't freak you out. Haha. Things I think of … well you ain't seen nothing yet! Hahaha) in my estimate, I think I have about 5 chapters at most left so yeah… I'll try to end this as soon as possible to keep everyone (readers and myself included) out of their misery. So there. Again, thank you for everything! See ya!


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

She watched as her servants and ministers made fools of themselves as they moved about. It was only several minutes ago when the Nabradian corps arrived while escorting their new liege yet the change within the palace was almost instantaneous. Some of her own people were groveling one moment and scurrying away the next. They looked as if they were caught unaware by a raid or inspection and were suddenly in a state of panic. The corridors were almost instantly deserted, but the sounds of activity in the background got louder and louder as they walked. The older ministers seemed to be intent on distracting the new lord, focused on the task of making him believe that everything was all right. They went on their way, gushing out praises for their guest in the most awkward manner. Unexpectedly, the man took it all in a stride, as if he had been used to such treatment all his life. At that point, she realized that she should get tips from him, for even she had not figured out how to cope with such odd behavior despite being subjected to it for most of her life.

"Now if you would excuse us," she finally spoke, perhaps more harshly than she had intended. For a while, there was a flicker of relief in her subjects' faces, until it vanished into a calm, almost frustrated expression, and soon they did her bidding. The last of them carefully closed the door behind him and finally the two of them were left alone for the first time since he had arrived.

"Hope I didn't… er… trouble you… with me coming unexpectedly and all…" he started to speak, and the formidable façade he put up seemed to vanish rapidly. He seemed to be that man she saw in her Uncle's parlor again, though he now dressed and moved differently. In truth, she was also quite shocked when she saw him in her palace for the first time, especially since she didn't think he could possibly look more like _him_. Yet now as he stood before her, with timid eyes and a hand at a back of his neck, she realized that he was an entirely different person that she needn't be anxious.

"No, not at all. I was actually meaning to talk to you. It was actually quite … convenient that you actually came to see me instead." She went behind her desk then, coughing self consciously as she looked at his still figure. "Excuse me for being a terrible host. Please, do have a seat and make yourself comfortable."

He grinned as he walked almost lazily across the room, "No thank you. I think I would have to walk off my nervousness for a while. Hanta, I'm still not used to this royalty thing."

He was getting good at faking it, and not really taking it after all, she thought. "Archadia is about to act soon. Nabradia would be free. Surely you must be used to the _royalty thing_ by then."

He sighed as he bent his head downward, suddenly looking crestfallen, "They only agreed because somehow, _someone_ made them believe that Nabradia is more of a liability than an asset. What's worse is that it's actually true. Soon I am to rule a dying kingdom. Great. Just great. My stars are really toying with me."

"Do not speak that way," she snapped at him before she could stop herself. She paused and her expression softened when she realized that she should not have been too hard on him. "Nabradia was such a prosperous kingdom. Your people are talented; your nation has a rich heritage. All you have to do is rebuild. Your presence would surely strengthen your people's resolve."

He glanced at her then, his eyes seeming to sparkle anew. "Dalmasca truly had been in good hands then, with a queen such as you." He smiled that _familiar looking smile_, and for a while, Ashe felt something tug at her heart. "Sometimes I wonder… if Nabradia is better off under your care? After all, had I not existed, then the two nations would still be united under your rule, had the Archadians decided to pull out their forces, as they are about to do soon."

Dalmasca and Nabradia had always kept close relations, in fact, they were almost intertwined. Nevertheless, she knew Amon's presence could be a blessing. She was very new to this kind of task herself. Dalmasca was already quite a handful. Nabradia was relatively more devastated by the last insurrection. Surely, with more cities and lives to rebuild, then managing both kingdoms would have been an awesome task – one she was not even quite sure she was capable of handling.

"You do know that the different kingdoms would be willing to support you. I give you my word now, Amon. Dalmasca would remain your greatest ally."

"As Nabradia would be yours," he replied, sounding like a statesman already. He sat on the chair right in front of her and suddenly looked like he was brooding. "Yet… I wonder. I mean, I am definitely new to this thing, and perhaps you could shed light on this for me…" he paused hesitantly and looked at her once more. She knotted her brows and nodded, as if prodding him to continue. Thus he did by saying, "Do you like it? Is it even … tolerable at least? I mean this whole ruling thing. I've had the experience of leading some men before, but… a nation?"

Does she like it? "It is not a matter of liking, Amon. This is what I had been fated to do. I owe it to myself and to my people." Her own honesty somehow struck her as she realized that it was her first time to actually talk about this issue, with a person she barely knew at that.

"But given a choice, like, if you could choose to live a normal life, would you rather stick to this way of life or walk away?"

Walk away? Ashelia B'nargin Dalmasca never walked away from anything. She suddenly had a feeling that she could not explain. Was it anger, frustration or… did Amon actually trap her into talking about a touchy subject? "This is the life I've always known. I cannot turn my back on it now – I cannot leave my people," she spoke firmly despite the rising questions in her heart, "I have learned to be strong. No matter how difficult it may be, I shall endure."

Amon whistled lowly, in an almost disrespectful manner, yet if she had been irked by it she did not show it. She merely folded her hands in front of her lap and pondered on what she just said. She was queen now, thus she must speak and live like one. She repeated the words in her head, almost like a mantra, and she felt determined once more.

"It seems to be a difficult life… it's just so… Lonely." His words struck her for she knew he was speaking the truth.

But what was loneliness to her now? She had been orphaned, widowed, and broken. She had already seen too many deaths in her lifetime. "It is but a small price, to give my people peace."

"You're giving it all away Ama… Ashe," he whispered, "wouldn't you want to keep a piece for yourself – even just a small piece? What if you could just… live your own life? What if you could be free, even for a while? What if you have a chance to be you again, would you grab the opportunity?"

"A chance to be me?" she looked at him then, confusion written all over her face. A chance to be herself… A chance for Ashe. "But I am who I am… I am… me. This is me. I am the queen of Dalmasca, just as I am Ashe. Why must I trade my life? With what life shall I trade what I have now?"

He stood up and walked across the room once more with a serious look on his face. He seemed to be mulling over something as he glanced at her from time to time. "Had you always been this serious? Surely you haven't always been this way."

"Of course." She decided to look away from him herself. She glanced on the balcony where she and her husband used to share their most intimate thoughts. Life seemed less complicated at that time. There was more room for living; there was more room for loving. "Perhaps there are some things in life that I may no longer attain, no matter how much I will it so."

"Like what?"

It took her a while to reply, as she realized the awkwardness of their situation. Nevertheless he continued to look at her innocently, still eager to hear her reply. "Work takes too much of my time… takes too much of myself. Each day I drift farther away from the few people I've learned to draw strength from, only to be closer to the multitudes of people who need my services."

"Oh," he spoke with a melancholic tone, "that is quite a sacrifice, what a pity."

"I do not need your pity, Amon," she retorted almost automatically. "It is my pleasure to serve Dalmasca…"

"I'm sorry, I did not mean to offend you. I wasn't talking about you," he replied just as quickly. "I was thinking about those people… those people who you said you drew your strength from – Those people that love you genuinely."

Love? While that was not exactly what she had in mind, her heart seemed to agree with his train of thought completely.

He continued when he realized she had nothing to say about what he just said "It's such a shame that you're so hell-bent on flinging your whole self to the full service of your kingdom. Those who love you would have to settle for… nothing."

That seemed to be a harsh way of putting it, she thought, but nevertheless she figured that his words had been nothing but empty ones. She _did not have anyone that special_… _not anymore_. "That is a price that has to be paid. Yet it is of no importance, no one feels that way… at least not for me."

She was surprised when she heard him chuckle then, "You think so?"

She had no idea as to what he meant by those words but then somehow it made her heart skip several beats.

Could it be…?

She suddenly found herself thinking about the familiar scene in her head once more. She was walking…running… seeking someone… her heart was brimming with happiness. It was such a wonderful feeling and yet… and yet…

"It matters not," she finally managed to reply; "This is the way I choose to live my life."

"It's lonely… too lonely. Especially when you actually have a shot at a life with someone… living your life with someone," Amon spoke in a calm voice as he went closer to her. "Dalmasca be dammed. Even for a while, wouldn't you want to live that way? Wouldn't you want to be in love again?"

"Amon!" she gasped at his sudden harsh words. "Love is out of the question. Dalmasca is all I have."

"When has loving someone become so wrong?" he hissed, evidently frustrated.

She eyed him carefully then as her mind was suddenly bombed with multitudes of questions. Was he hiding something from her? Did it have something to do with her lost memories? Was he planning to change the future… her … their future? Was this about the alliance? Did his advisers convince him to ask for her hand in marria-

"I want to tell you the story you know…" he spoke after a while, almost like in a state of a trance.

Was he finally going to say it? Was he going to tell her about the Phon Coast?

"They told me everything. They told me about the fate that befell my parents." She suddenly felt her heart sinking to her stomach as her world seemed to calm down once more. He was not going to tell her after all. Yet seeing the serious look on his face, she decided to keep quiet and just let him do as he pleased.

"As you already know, the story begins when Caelestis fell in love with a maiden from the Dalmascan court. Your distant aunt, Amalia." He smiled slightly as he looked at her, "I figured that she had been a lot like you in many respects. She was just as crazy … insanely devoted to this land. Perhaps her devotion to her homeland had been one of the things that drew Caelestis to her." The mirth then left his face and he was serious once more. "The invaders from the north threatened to cross the borders. Another war was to begin."

She knew the story for it had been retold over and over again. Many fought against the tyrants – knights, noblemen and the common people to name a few. Amalia led one of the main forces, as she chose to defend her kingdom instead of opting to flee with the other noblewomen as the people expected her to. She could have married Caelestis, yet she cast all her feelings aside, choosing instead to give her life to the kingdom she loved wholeheartedly.

"Cae…My father was against the war and was sickened by the needless bloodshed, yet it continued nonetheless as the people fought fervently for their kingdoms. At one point, the Nabradian forces managed to infiltrate one of the enemy camps and uncovered a plot to instigate an all out attack on Rabanastre – with the third division at the Westersands as their main target."

"That was her division," she added unconsciously. Amalia had been her idol, her hero. She could tell her story if she had been asked to do so.

"That's right. Amalia… my mother was there. My father knew this as well, but he was powerless to act as his duty had been to protect Nabradia first." Judging from Ashe's expression, it seemed to be her first time to hear this side of the story. "The third division had to be crushed in order to earn an upper hand. While the two forces were evenly matched, the plan was still more of a gamble – it was dangerous for both sides, but victory shall be determined by whoever emerges victoriously from the Westersands. When the rainy season commenced, more soldiers from all sides succumbed to different maladies and it became harder to fight on the different landscapes as well. It was then that my father took the chance and decided to push for a ceasefire in order to start negotiations with the enemy, in the hopes of delaying the battle even more somehow. The Nabradians agreed to this because they knew that should Dalmasca fall, it wouldn't take long before Nabradia falls as well. At that point, negotiating with the enemy seemed to be the most logical thing to do, but at the back of my father's mind, he already knew the possible consequences of such act; that is - he might just be taken as a hostage, or worse, be killed. He figured that it was still a sound plan, as his capture can give the enemy the advantage they were looking for, making it unnecessary for them to aim for Dalmasca's third division and risk losing more men. His death would ultimately not hurt Nabradia either; he had a brother who would still be there to rule after all."

Amon fell silent for a while, as if the next part of the story pained him. She could not blame him; after all, from what she knew, what came next had been the sad end of his parents. "The enemy double crossed them in the end. Caelestis's efforts were in vain." She knew that many died in the battle in the Westersands though the Dalmascan forces had been victorious. Amalia was one of the casualties. This fact made her even more famous. She was regarded as a hero.

"Actually, they intended to double cross them first." He suddenly smirked, and Ashe had to look at him intently, suddenly confused. "This is the part of the tale that not too many know of. After all, only those who were close to my parents knew of it." He paced in front of her as he continued his story, "My mother heard of my father's plans and decided to stop him, yet my father's mind was made up. Being the strong-willed woman that she was, she decided to accompany him instead. Of course, my father was averse to the idea since his main point in going through the whole ordeal was to protect her in the first place. Somehow, in the middle of all this, my father finally got what he had always wished for; my mother finally opened her heart and fell in love with him."

What was not to love, she thought. It was not everyday that a man was willing to make a selfless sacrifice for the woman he loved most. A few men seemed to be devoted enough… to be in love enough… Somehow Caelestis reminded her of…

"It was then that they hatched a plan. Their journey towards the enemy grounds already bought the forces a fair amount of time. With the rainy season drawing to a close, they no longer needed an attempt to reach a peace agreement with the enemy when they were well aware that they would not cooperate anyway. Instead, they both decided to further stall the enemy somehow before moving to the Valendian continent."

"To get more allies?"

He chuckled once more and Ashe was unprepared for what he said next, "No. Guess again."

She grew slightly impatient for the sudden change in Amon's mood. She was so eager to hear the rest of the story and yet he suddenly chose that moment to jest with her. Yet before she could come up with something, he finally said.

"They decided to simply disappear. They made up their minds and agreed to elope."

Her mind reeled from what he said. Amalia… she couldn't have possibly… "That is preposterous! Amalia couldn't do such a selfish act…"

"Selfish?" Amon crossed his arms and looked at her with slightly raised eyebrows then, "She had already been most generous in her devotion to Dalmasca. Did she not deserve to be happy?"

She opened her mouth to speak, yet stopped herself, feeling something strange in her heart. If she had been in Amalia's position, would she have done the same thing? Somehow, despite what Amon said, her image of her merely cracked but it was not shattered. Her hero had been human after all. "It is just that… it's so hard to believe that she actually… when all this time I thought…"

"Then you still doubt my existence? Perhaps now you see me as a product of her weakness."

She shook her head, realizing that what she was feeling was probably nothing compared to what the supposed child of their union was feeling himself. She had always thought that love … love was far from weakness, for it was actually the very thing that can give one strength.

"Everything changed when they realized that they had me. They immediately asked a pastor to marry them secretly. Then my father had the scimitar forged in Nabudis as it had been a family tradition. He did not know for certain if he was going to have a son or not, but he figured that his child need not be deprived of his identity despite what they had planned. It was the last thing he decided to do as a son of the house of Nabradia. They were willing to forget everything else – in order to start a new life, together," he leaned back on the wall and idly touched the hilt of the weapon, perhaps unconsciously as he continued, "You know the rest of the story. They were ambushed … my father died to save my mother… my mother died to save me. Now here I am, wondering if it had been all worth it."

She remained silent, unable to think of words to say in order to comfort him. At the same time, thoughts continued to plague her mind. Love was so great. She was so lucky to have felt it at least once in her life with Rasler… but was that really the only time? The emptiness she had been feeling for so long… was it because… was love the thing she lacked in her life? Was love the feeling that she yearned for? Suddenly she felt so alone… she felt so damn alone… but why? Why were her defenses crumbling down… why?

"_You… never really preferred my company."_

"_Let's go home,"_

"_What do you think about… making some memories now?"_

"_I'm sorry… I'm sorry I could __give you only a sandcastle__."_

She touched her head as the voices suddenly came back. It all sounded so familiar and yet… her heart started beating madly in her chest as the words kept on flashing in her mind. She looked at Amon almost agonizingly, feeling something… but not really seeing him…

"Ashe?" he ran to her side and touched her shoulder firmly, worry etched in his face.

"The Phon Coast… tell me… What is it that you've been hiding from me..?"

The sudden mention of the place before he could get on topic caught him off-guard, yet as he stared at Ashe, he realized that she had that same pained expression he saw in the Barheim Passage. Perhaps she was starting to remember? "Why? What is it that you want to know?"

She had no answers to his question and yet she had the sudden urge to scream at him out of frustration. Something was just amiss, and this fact nagged her more than ever. She had to know something… something… more important than life itself.

"_I don't know what I could say to make you trust me, but I mean you no harm,"_

"_Are you ready to go?"_

"_It is… Interesting."_

"Ah the Phon Coast… a place filled with hunters… but oddly enough, life there is simple, but not as boring as people think it to be." He stretched casually then, trying to be oblivious to her pain. "I lived there all my life, and the stories formed there had never ceased to amaze me. Do you know why? That place has many secrets – just because people carelessly leave them there, as though the sea would never reveal the treasure hidden beneath its depths. Mine almost never got revealed, what with my mother dying upon reaching the shores."

She continued to stare at him then, remaining silent as she tried to focus on what was happening. His words brought back a memory of a cottage by the sea… a sandcastle by the shore…

"Enough of my sob story. I know something that might interest you. Why, I know a little secret about good ol'… Gabranth, you know?"

Gabranth? She did not want to think about him now… she wanted to know about the man… the man with the unruly hair… the elusive yet warm smile, the kind eyes…

"I really don't want to be a tattletale, but since you're asking… I have it on good authority that Gabranth fell in love once… I think he still is." He was smiling as he said the words, almost like he were teasing her.

"Gabranth?" she felt something twitch at her heart at the mention of his name… no… that didn't sound right… His name was Basch… and he… he was in love…?

"Yeah, he was in love with a… teacher's daughter or something. I think she loved him as well." Amon seemed to talk in riddles, yet she felt… she can't even figure out how she felt anymore. "Ah what the heck, if you want to know about it, you have to ask him yourself. If I tell you anymore, I think he'd never let me live it down … I think he'd never let me even live for that matter."

The thought of Basch killing Amon for revealing his _secret_ was meant to humor her, yet she barely even heard the words. What did she care about his life or who he loved? What did she care about… but no… she cared about … him.

"Wait. I almost forgot. I actually came here to give this to you." He suddenly pulled out what seemed to be a vial from one of his pockets and placed it in her table. "I wanted to give this to you sooner, but I never really had the chance. Now that I'm here, I think it's about time that I returned it. I found this in the Barheim Passage. You probably don't remember… but I think you dropped it."

Her hands instinctively reached out to touch the small bottle. She then lifted it up so she could see its contents more carefully. "Sand… it's filled with sand."

"Right. White sand from the Phon Coast."

"_But what if I forget? What if the memory leaves me? How would I remember that such a moment existed?"_

"_I would remember"_

The Phon Coast… she had to go to the Phon Coast. She did not even have to think about it anymore. Her feet started to move as if a force of some kind urged her to go.

Amon probably saw the wild look in her eyes when he said, "I could keep them preoccupied if you want. If you leave now, you'd probably be there before sundown"

"Leave?"

"Go to the Phon Coast!" He had his hands on her shoulders once more as he pushed her towards the exit. "Hanta, what are you waiting for? That is what you want to do isn't it?"

She found it strange how he read her thoughts, but she did not bother to tell him that. After all, the voices, the feelings, the images in her head were getting stranger at that point.

Everything was a blur, even as she found herself dressed in a heavy cloak, riding a Chocobo faster than she ever had before. She continued to clutch the bottle filled with sand, holding it near her chest, as if it would stop her heart from beating too quickly.

Logic didn't seem to have a place in her mind or heart anymore. She just knew… somehow.

She knew _he_ would be there. She would find him at last.

* * *

Author's notes:

There you go, Zaz9-zaa0, the thing from the Phon Coast, hitting her … though not quite like a brick.

Oh. By the way, I have to clarify some things just in case some people missed it. First. Key is the "fallen man from Bhujerba" who tells you about the key in the Lhusu Mines. His supposed girlfriend is the crying woman who seemed to have been stood-up by her lover and who you give one the Bhujerban Madhus to. (I think she was standing by the store if I'm not mistaken).Second, I would like to think that Mighty is the "moogle on the hill", though he is the resident cartographer's guild moogle in the Phon Coast. But he talks a lot more than the rest don't you think? Third, the area where Basch and co. supposedly found Ashe was in the Barheim passage, near the garamsythe waterway. (That place where lots of ghosts spawn? Near that place where you fight one of the Espers) See… Amon came inside from the Barheim passage whereas Basch and co. came from the garamsythe waterway side.

As for trivia time. Haha. I might get killed for this but… here it goes. Don't you find it odd how in the English dub, Fran was given a small (I admit, almost annoying for me) voice with an accent that I don't know, plus, she was super sexy and was like a playboy bunny (literally…) aaaand she was with Balthier, a "nice guy" with a pseudo-British accent. Hmmm? Can you see what I'm driving at here? Oh. It's a good thing that Fran never laughed, because then that really would have been funny… ok, if you still don't get it, I suppose you've never seen an episode of _The Nanny_. (Fräulein Fran! GASP!) But uh… to redeem myself, "Franc" is old French for "free, sincere and genuine" which would have represented Fran's freedom from the wood. (Oooh and Balthier's real name is Ffam**fran**… dun dun duuuun.)

Well anyway, again, I would like to thank everyone who read. I'm trying to finish this as soon as I can and I really would like to thank those who have stuck with me through thick and thin. Haha. Well, advance Merry Christmas to you (and in case the holiday does not apply, well, just have fun and enjoy the sales and the food!) 'till next time (I'll have better trivia, I promise. Haha)


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

"_Highness, don't move any further."_

_She heard him shout as he remained in his steed a few feet away from her. He seemed to be intent on trying to bring her back to shore too, yet she already made up her mind. He was going to teach her how to swim whether he liked it or not. _

"_What? What did you say" she shouted back then, teasing him slightly as she raised one of her hands and placed it by her ear. Sunshine seemed to get the joke too, as she pranced around making jovial sounds all the while._

_She partly regretted what she just did when she saw him jump off his chocobo a few seconds later, with a fierce scowl on his face. Basch never got mad at her before, in fact, she almost thought he was incapable of doing so. But now, she figured that she couldn't blame him; after all, even she knew that what she did was uncalled for. She was about to apologize when she saw him unbuckling his armor. The heavy pieces quickly fell on the wet sand with a soft "thump" and before she could even turn away, he was already down on his trousers. _

"_Basch! What are you…" she exclaimed, feeling shy yet excited all the same, her remorse all but forgotten. If her nanny only saw what she saw now, surely she would… "so you are going to teach me how to swim after all!" she raised her hands victoriously then, as she realized that she got what she wanted. Having another story to tell her nanny was just icing on the cake. _

_He remained silent as he approached her, a bit too hurriedly. She figured that he probably didn't even feel the waves hitting him forcefully, causing him to move backwards unintentionally. Sunshine, playful as ever started to move as well, probably wanting to be chased around by the knight. She laughed at the thought until she realized that her chocobo moved for another reason altogether. _

_Suddenly, it was almost as if a whirlwind came to the shore._

_She did not have time to move thus the waves hit her squarely. It almost felt like being thrown in a violent shower. The salty water entered her mouth as she gasped, leaving her in a sputtering mess. Breathing became even more difficult when she realized what had caused the incident in the first place – it met her face to face. The fish-like fiend looked bigger than before as it floated in front of her, its teeth bared and aimed at her flesh. She tried to move away but Sunshine moved even more forcefully. Instead of going towards the shore, it ended up moving deeper until her whole torso was immersed in the water. She leaned her head back, as if trying to stretch her neck but the sea was so unsettled and the waves were pounding on her heavily. _

"_Basch," she gurgled as she desperately looked around, searching for him. Yet she could see nothing but endless amounts of water now. He was… he was not there! He was supposed to be there, she thought, he was supposed to be there for her. She flailed her arms then as she felt herself being swept away by the water. She had to reach him, he might have drowned. What was she to do? They were in trouble because of her foolishness… she was alone with Sunshine and…_

_She saw the fiend in front of her once more with its fins moving quickly… the whirlwind… it would strike once more … she must – _

_She felt her legs suddenly getting disengaged from her chocobo. She no longer had anything to grasp. There was no ground to step on, and no walls to hold on to – and yet, above her, there was also nothing… but water!_

_She struggled, unable to breathe, unable to see. The waves moved as though it intended to tear her into pieces. She was helpless, unable to fight back. All she could do was move jerkily, only to sink deeper… and deeper… She was going to die, she just knew it. She was going to die… alone!_

_She let out a strangled cry making the air escape her lips as she sunk deeper into the Nebran Sea. She felt sorry that this had to happen. She would not be able to see Nabudis after all. She would never have to learn how to swim again. It was over, all over. She wanted to weep – and perhaps she already did, and her salty tears probably made her sink even more. _

_She had given up all hope until she suddenly felt something wrapped around her torso… two strong arms pulling her. At first she was unsure if it had been death gripping her, or life reclaiming her. Nevertheless, she shivered as she held on for dear life, not willing to let go. Whatever it was, it was definitely more pleasant than the cold sea. The darkness faded and soon it was bright. She coughed violently as she slowly learned how to breathe once more. She was alive! More than ever, she was convinced that she did not want to have that feeling again. She did not want to be alone, sinking, and drowning. _

"_Highness," his voice shook and she barely heard it as she was more intent in feeling her legs touching solid ground once more. _

_She felt that whatever she had been holding on to was moving… heaving and she realized that she had been holding on to Basch all along. Instead of moving away, she snuggled closer to him for a while, not quite getting over the shock just yet. She felt his own heart beating madly with his chest rising and falling just as quickly. She stayed there for a few minutes, trying to forget the fear and the loneliness. She closed her eyes and thanked the gods. Basch did not die because of her foolishness after all. He had been there for her again._

_Yet she couldn't forget the trouble she realized she had caused him. After a while, she finally found the strength to say, "I am sorry." _

_He heard her tearful voice and somehow it brought him back to his senses. He slowly let go when he realized that he had been clutching her, perhaps too tightly, but was still unable to let go completely. As he held on to her shivering form, he realized that he came so close to losing her. That was the most terrifying thought he ever had in his life. She had been his only ray of light after he had lost so much. Losing her as well would probably make his life spiral down to complete darkness. He never realized how much she meant to him until she was suddenly lost in the waves, out of his sight. _

_She continued to breathe erratically and her hands remained around his neck as if on a death grip. While it pained him, it reminded him that he managed to reach her just in time and so he did not bother to pull away. Yet when he heard her muffled cries, he realized that she probably was just as terrified, perhaps even more than he was. _

_Helplessly, brokenly, she repeated her words, "I am sorry."_

_He could not help but pull her closer to him once more. "Nay, it is I who should be sorry," he murmured as his chin touched her temple. "It is all right now. You are safe," he added as he closed his eyes, realizing his words calmed himself more than it did her._

"_You… are not angry?" she squeaked, and all else considered, he had the sudden urge to smile for she chose that moment to say such a preposterous thing! He could never be angry at her. How could he possibly be?_

_Nevertheless, she continued to bow her head, looking uncharacteristically meek. She fidgeted for a while until she finally spoke once more._

"_I've learned my lesson. I shall never go in the middle of the sea again."_

"_Never?"_

_He sighed as he nudged her slightly, feeling a bit amused at her admission. His charge did not have all the courage in the world after all. And yet all along he somehow knew that she did not have to, for he already vowed to protect her, to face the demons of the world with all the courage he can muster in her place. He would be her shelter, until she was strong enough to protect herself, until he was strong enough to let her go. _

"_Then how am I to teach you how to swim? You were right. You have to learn how to swim after all."_

"_No!" she suddenly pulled away from him then, her head hitting his chin forcefully that he had to pull his head back. "I do not like it. I changed my mind. I do not want to learn." _

_He looked at her with a calm expression when he replied, "surely you do not mean that." He waited for her response patiently while giving her encouraging glances all the while. _

_She looked back at him hesitantly while pulling her hair back; tucking it behind her ear, as she realized that the waves that hit her legs seemed to be harmless once more. She cursed herself for being so weak, completely unaware of how her vulnerability charmed her guardian instead of irritating him like she thought. "I… I didn't think it would be that unpleasant. Perhaps I might not be able to learn -"_

_He placed his hand on her shoulder in an effort to comfort her. Had she been a frail woman then the experience she just had might have caused an irreparable fear toward the sea and yet… Ashe was anything but frail. She would overcome this and he was willing to be with her every step of the way. While he vowed to shield her from all harm, perhaps she truly needed this lesson to grow. He knew he had to take away this misplaced fear from her heart. "It is not unpleasant. You just started on a wrong foot, that is all. Come, let us start all over. It will be all right, I promise you."_

_She was distracted when Sunshine was suddenly behind them making noises as if it had gotten over the whole ordeal already. Now her faithful steed was just busy shaking off the remnants of its fear as well as the salt water that stuck to its coat. Seeing her pet this way somehow bolstered her spirit. She convinced herself that what just happened was nothing more than a mere lapse. It would not happen again. Basch would protect her, she just knew it. She believed in him, just as much as he believed in her as well. _

_With the last of the feelings of reluctance leaving her system, she finally clasped the outstretched hand extended towards her direction, ready for her first lesson. She would learn how to swim. She was ready to conquer the sea. This time she would not only do it for herself. She would also do it for Basch. "You realized how pitiful I was didn't you? That was the reason why you changed your mind. Well, I promise this to you as well Captain Basch, I'll be a good swimmer before sundown!"_

_Glad to hear his charge with her spunk back, he drew her closer to the water, trying to be slow and gentle all the while. "That is well and good then," he replied, his lopsided smile betraying the seriousness of his voice. "That way perhaps you would be able to save me from drowning." _

"_Perhaps someday I shall."_

* * *

For a while she stood at the knoll near the opening of the Hunters' Camp, a bit dazed as she still found her self in what seemed to be a crazed spell as she looked around. She expected to see bustling activity in the bright shore yet the camp did not look anything like the image in her head now. Dark clouds loomed in the horizon with occasional flashes of lightning brightening up the sky. The hunters seemed to have anticipated the heavy downpour, and all have sought shelter in the different tents and cottages around the camp. Tentatively, she trudged in the deserted mound, feeling her heart thumping wildly in her chest without really knowing the reason why. Was he there? Will she see him? The questions kept on repeating itself in her mind that the lines between her dreams and reality seemed to have been shattered. She was about to tell herself to get a grip when suddenly…

There he was.

There was a man, waiting, sitting alone by the shore.

She did not have time to think as her feet started moving, as if with a mind of its own. She ran faster than she ever had until breathing became difficult, until her chest almost felt like exploding.

Yet when she reached the spot where she found him… she realized that in his place there was nothing left… but a few marks in the sand.

Where… where could he have gone? What she saw was not a mere figment of her imagination, was it? She looked around frantically… searching, hoping, and praying. Yet there was nothing but sand… and water. The sea seemed to be in a fit of rage, she thought, as huge waves relentlessly crashed the shore by her feet.

Where was he? If he truly had been there, he couldn't have gone very far… he must be near; she just had to look hard enough to…

To her horror she finally found what she was looking for. His unruly hair appeared on her view mere seconds after disappearing once more in the dark, violent waters.

"Stop!" she shouted, to no avail. Memories of her childhood came back, filling her mind with vivid images. The sea, the fear, helplessness… not being able to breathe… She did not like the sea that much after what happened in the past… but oddly enough, she did not feel as averse to it now. As she stepped into the water, she remembered… she felt… laughter, happiness... seashells… games… The brief pleasant thoughts kept her going. After a while, she did not even feel the waves hitting her anymore.

"Stop!" she shouted once more before a wave hit her, making her head fall back on the sea. As she managed to resurface, she realized that her call worked as she found him standing still, and she was finally able to catch up with him. She moved like she had been taught, blindly thrusting her arms forward, hoping to touch something, hoping to hold him. She felt victorious as she felt something in her arms … a torso, strong yet cold… "What are you…?"

"I cannot … I cannot forget after all…"

She barely heard his spoken words and it chilled her even more. She did not even have the strength to reason with him any longer as she just pulled him closer. He fell back, his feet seeming to lose its balance and he let himself sink deeper into the sea. She struggled then as she pulled him closer, her legs kicking back, hoping to pull him to shore.

He jerked back as he tried to pull away, but this did not give her a reason to give up. She used all her strength to pull his head up to let him breathe, seeing that it would take some time before she would succeed in bringing him to safety. They continued to struggle for a while, until finally, he seemed to have lost all his strength and he finally succumbed to her.

She quickly let go as they reached the shore, almost dumping him there like a sack. She rolled on her back as she heaved; glad to save him, glad to be alive. Her relief at that moment made her completely oblivious to the way he keeled over and coughed forcefully.

His hacking continued for a few more seconds and she eventually found herself leaning over him, with one hand on his back hoping to soothe him somehow.

"It was a good thing you taught me how to swim," was all she could say, still not getting over the shock after what just transpired moments ago. "You told me… you told me that I would be able to save you…"

"That you have," he finally said as his coughing stopped; his voice hoarse, almost feeble. "More than you can ever imagine."

His eyes remained focused on the ground, his mind still reeling from what just happened moments ago. Everything had been a haze, up until that moment when he realized that the woman who plagued his mind was now beside him. His going to the Phon Coast had been out of impulse, born out of his misery, and he thought the image of her had been part of his delirium; but she was anything but a mere image now as he felt her touch, heard her voice, saw her confused expression. Was this his punishment for all that he had done? The torment and agony felt more real now, more than ever before. He went to the coast to forget, to bury the memories forever so he can _function_ once more. Yet he felt death gripping him as he threw the bottle filled with sand, the embodiment of their promise to do the contrary, to the sea. As he desperately struggled to get it back, he realized that he wasn't so strong after all, not even for her sake.

"What is going on?" she asked, her voice shaking slightly, "What are you doing here? What were you doing _out there_! Why? Why does it feel so strange… to be here, to be with you? Make me understand!"

He slumped down on the ground with her as he bent his head, looking as if he had been wounded mortally by her barrage of questions. "It is not that easy…"

"Nothing ever is!"

She did not even know why she snapped at him. All that she knew was that the pain continued to linger in her heart, and it intensified with each moment that passed. She tried so hard to dismiss it as nothing more than her imagination, yet the way Basch looked now proved to her once more that it was real. He looked so vulnerable with his unflappable mask of calm shattered before her eyes. He was in pain, just as she was. For a while he seemed not to be himself at all… yet… he was _that man_ wasn't he? She always thought Basch's expression was an image that she had almost memorized – after he remained unfazed amidst the troubles and the battles that came their way. He always had that same expression, that unbreakable expression that rarely flinched or grimaced. It was unruffled even when faced with _her_ scorn and hatred, even when _she _subjected him to pain. And yet, his eyes, she realized, his melancholic eyes, had also been a familiar sight, one he rarely showed but she often saw. It was riddled with pain, similar to what she saw now. Yet she seemed to remember that there was more to those eyes than what she saw… there was warmth in them, especially when he looked at her, especially when he smiled. For a while that image of him seemed to be most suitable, as she remembered that man… that man she sought in her dreams. She looked back at the dreams she had, as she pictured him now with a face, with a voice, with the warmth... She knew with full conviction; Basch was that man she had been seeing in her dreams all along.

"Gabranth. Just tell me. What happened when we were together? Why… Why do I even feel this way?"

Nonetheless, the image remained disjointed in her mind, as she looked at him while waiting for a reply. In her dreams he seemed to be calm and warm, not unlike how she always knew him to be, yet nonetheless completely unlike how he looked now. He was anguished, perturbed, almost like the sea with the impending storm. She could not recall a moment when he had been this way. Never in her childhood, never in their quest together… never in…

…that night… the shore…

"Gabranth, Gabranth!" he was quickly on his feet, almost as if on a rage. "And yet I cannot be Basch either!"

"_I cannot be your Rasler, nor can I be your Balthier." _

It was that same voice he had that night… it was that same helplessness… that same man…

"How can you be? You are Basch," she said softly… as if on a trance. "You are Basch."

His fists were clenched and he seemed determined to walk away from her, _just like how he did that night_…Tears started to well up in her eyes as bits and pieces started to come together. This was the man she had trusted all her life, the man she loathed the most at one point, the man she continued to respect.

But never in her life did she realize that he was actually… that he could… that he already made her feel this way about him.

"Don't you dare walk away from me again!"

Her words stopped him in his tracks as his eyes widened, his mind reeling from the words she just uttered. The small bottle he clutched in his hand suddenly fell from his grasp and it finally came to Ashe's view. Her eyes focused on the object for a while, noting that it was just like what she had…

It symbolized their promise… the promise they made by the sea. They would meet again, in this place. They would come back together, and they have.

"What… what happened here Basch? What are you not telling me?" she asked him once again, as more memories entered her mind. There was a cottage by the sea… there were bonfires late at night. There was a moogle named Mighty… Hunters named Key… Amon… gossipers in the street… "What are you not telling me Basch…? Answer me!"

What she was asking him seemed nearly impossible. How could he tell her about how he spent the days with her, how he took walks with her by the shore whenever she felt like it, and how he stayed up almost every night just to watch her sleep? How could he tell her that he wanted to stop the day, the hour, the minute, whenever he was with her? How could he tell her that he had been living out a dream when she played a game of charades with him, when she was his wife and he was her husband and everything was fine in the world as if it had always been? How could he tell her how much she meant to him, when he couldn't even comprehend how it transcended his feelings… his being… everything?

Seeing his startled expression, she stood up, almost looking like she were ready to attack him and instead of backing away…

… He met her with an embrace.

She was unprepared when he suddenly held her close… so close. Her guardian who she barely touched held her so intimately now. Yet… it did not feel odd or surprising. In fact… it just felt so… right.

"Please … please remember… I seemed to have a place in your heart back then…"

His whispered words pulled a trigger in her heart that she could not explain. A tear quickly rolled down her cheek as his wish came true almost instantly. She suddenly remembered the sandcastle by the shore… the games they played by the sea… the times they walked hand in hand… the meals she cooked for him… his smile… his pain… the way he told her that he loved her… the way he always seemed to want to move away… the way she could not understand his hesitation back then …

But she understood everything now.

He was always in the background; he was just always there. She thought him to be her shadow, unnoticed, neglected, and incomparable to the light of the other people who have come and gone in her life. Yes, she understood it now; he was incomparable to all of them, in a different way altogether. He was always there for her, to care, to love, to take her pain. Yet in guarding her life and her spirit, he seemed to have guarded her heart as well. It was only when she lost everything, when she had been so bare that he decided to fill her completely. It was only when she lost everything that she finally came to see the whole picture – as he unguardedly showed her all of him.

"But you always have…" she leaned on his neck as her tears flowed down like a torrent, as her defenses shattered, making her whole once more. "My heart knew all along. You've always been here." With that she placed her arms around his back as the vial dropped from her hands, the cap opening, and the sand spilling. "But why? I did not have to go through all this if you had just… Basch? All this time… You promised me and yet… why did you…"

He suddenly let go as his back stiffened, almost looking repelled from her touch. She figured that he probably putting up his defenses once more. He probably was too damn noble for his own sake after all. He _remembered_ _everything_ and yet was_ willing to forget_. With this Ashe stepped back as she tried to control her sobs.

"I am…"

"What? Are you going to say that you're sorry again?!" The rain started to pour down from the sky as if in tune with the workings of her heart. Once it fell, it came down hard almost instantly, hitting them like pellets, yet she could not feel that at all as her heart ached more than it ever had in her life, "Are you going to apologize again? I am sick and tired of…"

"I am in love with you," he said loudly, firmly, not willing to lose against the wrathful rain. He reached out to cup her face, shaking from his raw emotions, "I am in love with you, Ashe; that was what I was going to say."

The line between the knight and his liege, the past and the present, had been crossed, and they both knew it would remain that way forever. There was no turning back now.

He loved her, he really did; and now she was fully certain that she loved him back. What she had were no longer mere feelings, mere memories. What she had now was real… so damn real. She was in love!

With this, she jumped back into his arms and kissed him, never feeling so alive in her life, never thinking love could be as magnificent as this.

"Ashe…" he lifted his face momentarily only to kiss her back, feeling like he'll never die again, "Ashe…" He continued to hold her close in a crushing embrace as he realized that they were both vulnerable, weak, and succumbing helplessly to their emotions and yet… somehow, together, they just seemed so …strong. The elements would not even be able to bring them down now. All those emotions he kept for so long were suddenly exploding, giving him strength he never knew he had. And finally he can say the words out loud, over and over again. "Ashe, I love you."

Amidst the relentless rain, the hidden gods behind the clouds twinkled as another promise had been kept. They couldn't help but be pleased.

* * *

Author's Notes:

This is my belated Merry Christmas and my New Year's present to all those who might be interested. I do hope though that it wasn't mushy enough to kill. This is especially for Silvara – Yes! I do intend to keep my promise to you! Haha. Just wait and see! I would like to thank everyone again for reading. I also want to thank those who reviewed. I suppose those are just some of the things that I'd treasure in treasure in 2007. Before I start bawling all over the place, here's the trivia that I promised:

If you are actually a geek and you were crazy (or a big enough fan) to put the map of FFTactics' and FF12's Ivalice beside each other, you'd realize that the worlds look similar. That isn't too surprising if you think of it, since the new FFTactics seems to push for the "continuity" (that's why it was called "Ivalice Alliance" in the first place, I suppose… or it was just a way to feasibly put Balthier in the FFTactics remake. Haha). However, when I tried it, it actually looked more similar when the map from FFTactics was flipped horizontally (mirror image). Therefore, it is possible that with many years and magic of platetechtonics (aggravated by world wars and magical battles between good and evil) … then … VIOLA! Ivalice is formed!

I never really finished Vagrant Story, and I don't know if the Ivalice there had been incorporated in the other games as well. But nevertheless, from what I gather, Vagrant Story was set in Valendia – and Valendia had been the continent where Landis was situated. If you think about it, Vagrant story had several characters with German-sounding names. (er…though most are from works of fiction I think, like Shakespeare, not really intended to be "German-sounding") In fact, one of the villains was even named Rosencrantz. Rosencrantz – Fon Ronsenburg… ? Hmmm…

And since we're on that topic, there is another undeniable proof that Basch and Noah are twins… or at least they act alike. (as if we aren't convinced enough already) The photo of Judge Magister Gabranth that is usually shown in "character pages" like in the ffwiki (the one with white background? I suppose it's called the uh… official photo or whatever.) shows Gabranth with one hand on his waist and kind of leaning a bit to the right (though not too much, considering the armor would prevent you from bending.) If you would remember, that it exactly the same pose Basch does when he's "at ease" – like that time when he was looking at the children of Rabanastre with Vaan. Haha. Maybe that was their pre-assigned cute-boy-model pose – taught to them (by their mother?!) when they were young boys. … uh… can't believe I just said that.

Hahaha. Forgive the uselessness of the info I'm feeding you guys… but come on. It's hard enough to look for random things as it is. Haha. Well anyway, I'll see you when I see you! Happy New Year!


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

_She declared this day a special day and she would allow no one to defy her. _

_She did not need her title or her subjects to carry out this order. She declared this day a special day, and that was that. _

_She looked behind her and checked the table once more. The plates were in place, so were the spoons and the forks. She counted each piece meticulously, checking for the nth time if she got it all correctly. She then smiled when she realized that the numbers were correct and focused her attention back on what she was cooking. She turned the stove's knobs to bring the broth back into a simmer and closed the lid. Everything was turning out nicely thus far and she could not wait to hear what her husband had to say about all of this. Surely he would not find everything she had prepared merely "interesting" this time around. _

_She was indeed right on this account. _

_He entered the cottage quietly, after seeing the way Ashe went back and forth in the small kitchen, having that same determination in her eyes he always saw when they fought together side by side not too long ago. Yet at the same time, he had a glimpse of that smile, that same smile she had when she was younger, the smile she had been flaunting blithely as of late. Whatever it was she was up to today must be something pleasant, he thought, and the aroma of what she was cooking reassured him. _

_Today must have been a special day, but then he could not figure out exactly why it was so. He tried to think carefully as he kept his sword and his other things under the bed. Did he tell her something… did she tell him something? Did something happen? Could she have remembered anything of importance? _

"_Basch!" he suddenly stopped what he was doing as he realized that he had been caught. He turned around slightly to face her, not bothering to hide the slight surprise in his face. "I told you that you cannot come in until I tell you to do so, don't you remember?"_

_Great. They weren't even truly married and his supposed wife was already eager to throw him out of the house. He bowed sheepishly, suddenly feeling like a young boy once more. "I apologize… I just thought I'd help around and…"_

_Ashe shook her head as she replaced her hand on her waist. "Oh well, at least you came home clean and shaved and…" her eyes were suddenly wide and her expression changed in an instant, "Oh! You got your new clothes." She suddenly pulled him closer and forced him to do a small turn for her. "Green does suit you. Do you like it?"_

_Not really knowing what to say, he merely nodded and appreciated how his appearance seemed to please her. It had been a while since he had worn clothes tailored especially for himself. Besides the joy it seemed to give Ashe, he also felt like he could move freely more than ever. _

"_I just wanted to show it to you, before I get changed," he said as he moved back and searched for his old clothes, "then I would help you with whatever it is that you are doing."_

"_You will do no such thing!" she said, slightly more forcefully than she had intended. She placed her hands on his broad back and pushed him outside their small cottage. "Dinner would be ready in twenty minutes. I expect you to be home by then."_

"_But I..." _

_She barely heard his protests as she closed the door, nodding victoriously as she did so. She must admit that she liked to have him around, but she wanted to surprise him, and that meant that she had to do everything by herself. Surely he would not stay put, even if she made him promise not to interfere with what she was doing. _

_She went back to the kitchen, intent on putting the final touches on her feast. She set the soup aside, pushing the lid halfway to let it cool slightly, for she knew that it was Basch's habit to immediately eat once everything has been set, regardless of whether or not the food was cool enough for consumption. She considered the possibility that he was probably just showing eagerness out of respect, but she concluded that it was more likely that he just wanted to get over the 'ordeal' as soon as he can in order to be done with it. As she wafted the aroma of the soup she just prepared, she felt confident enough to think that he anticipated the best and not the worst, this time around. _

_With that, she bent down to retrieve the fowl she had been roasting in the oven below the stove. She placed it on the table, and proceeded to cut it, pleased at herself for seemingly regaining her ease with knives. While a carving knife was still a far cry from the weapons she used to wield, she figured that the kitchen was her battlefield now, and she felt at the top of her game once again. She carefully set the wings aside, for even if he never told her, she knew it was Basch's favorite part. _

_Next she got the side dishes, the vegetables and the legumes. He still veered away from the oats, as much as he could, and so she decided to serve potatoes that night. She also decided to serve dragon fruits for like Mighty, he seemed to like it as well. _

_With the food preparations complete, she went to the other side of the house to freshen up. She wiped the sweat off her forehead, and gave her hair a quick brushing. She never considered herself to be a vain woman, and she earnestly hoped she had never been one even before she lost her memory. Yet lately, she realized that she started to care about appearances, and she hoped it was not sinful; but somehow, knowing that Basch often focused his attention on her… knowing that it was he who constantly looked at her…it made her feel as though… she shook her head for her girlish thoughts as she tossed the brush back on her small dresser. Appearances did not matter now, she sighed, and it should be the least of her worries._

_But what really mattered? What drove her to put up this show? She sat down on the soft bed, suddenly feeling lost and all worn out. She declared it to be a special day, without really knowing why. Why? She stared at her wounded fingers and continued to wonder. _

_She wanted to surprise him. More than that, she wanted to please him. He wanted him to realize what a great wife she had become._

_Wife_

_She had been many things, but had she ever been a wife? She was married once, and she still wore the ring to prove it, but had she really been a wife? More importantly, could she be a wife to Basch? _

_They've talked of games and sand castles. She's guilty of toying with fantasies whenever she looked at the calm sea. It was only then when she started to ask herself if the charade had gone up her head. _

_A wife. Basch's wife. _

_Would cooking up a feast make her eligible as such? She vowed to him before that she would learn how to cook. She vowed to herself that she would learn how to do the most mundane chore. Yet in the end, would that be sufficient for him to be able to call her his wife?_

_She also managed to learn so much about Basch, despite not remembering everything else. She knew his favorite meal, his morning habits, or even the measurement of his clothes. She learned how to interpret the slightest twitch in his usually unflappable expression, which could vary from disgust to mirth. She knew what to say to elicit the response she wanted; she knew what need not be said for they both understood. She felt as though she knew him enough, that her lost memories already seemed irrelevant when it concerned him. While she still had some questions, and she still wished that she remembered what she might have known, spending time with him and knowing these facets about him already made her think her vision of him is complete. She knew him like he were her husband, yet again, would that be enough to make her the closest thing he had to a wife? _

_The knock on the door shook her out of her reverie, and she closed her eyes and breathed in deeply to compose herself. That day was a special day, and she would not let anything spoil it, not even the thought that what she did was still part of a game she chose to play. _

"_Good evening Amalia! We're here, kupo!" Mighty's voice somehow did the trick, and Ashe was jovial again, her sentiments all but forgotten, at least as far as appearances were concerned. She ushered her guests in, her face beaming with a smile all the while._

"_Thanks for inviting us over," Amon smiled as he patted her arm affectionately then went straight to the dinner table, "I must admit I've always wanted to have a taste of your cooking."_

"_Yeah, so we could remind ourselves how darn lucky Basch truly is!" Key added as he followed Amon inside. _

_The 'darned lucky man' was last in line; his face was calm though slightly quizzical when they were finally alone by the doorway. She purposely did not tell him that she had invited several friends for dinner, and that was probably the reason why he held such an expression. _

_They eyed each other for several moments until they felt their guests' gazes upon them. _

_Ashe then coughed self consciously and asked him, "Well?"_

"_May I come in now?" he bent down and whispered, his lips barely touching her ears. From where Mighty and the others were seated, it looked as though he just gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek. _

_Ashe glanced at her guests, already feeling her cheeks burning, until she looked at Basch once again, still with a smile on her face. "Welcome back."_

"_You're an awfully polite couple!" Key teased, earning a laugh from Amon and Mighty. "You could've easily told us not to look, you know. It's not like we won't respect your privacy."_

"_We are mere guests after all," Amon added, "you could actually kick us out now. We wouldn't mind."_

_Ashe shook her head, feigning exasperation, "I would mind, after I've cooked all afternoon for you." She took her seat beside Mighty and Basch sat right beside her, seeing that it was the only seat available. _

"_Kupo," Mighty sighed as his senses savored the dishes on the table. "If Basch is served with this everyday, I think I would start thinking of setting up Amon with a Rabanastran girl! Do you have any sisters Amalia?"_

"_Hey!" the man pulled the pompom atop the moogle's head, "how'd I get into the picture?"_

"_Let go, kupo!" he struggled to get away from Amon's grip, "I figured you're hopeless in the art of courting, and you would need me to get closer to her to be a bridge for you first – and with my good looks and charm, I would be able to persuade her to feed me."_

"_Some plan you have" Amon muttered, despite the laughter around him. _

"_Worry not Amon, I am not served with this everyday. Like you, it is my first time to sample these dishes," Basch said as he looked at the glorious food before him. His nervousness ebbed away, and he started to feel really proud of Ashe._

"_I just learned a few new tricks," she said confidently, though she still continued to blush. She focused on filling his plate, getting the parts she knew he preferred. Her guests did not expect her to do the same for them, for they knew that that the husband deserved nothing less than special treatment from his wife. Yet even if he wasn't truly her husband, her action was not for naught, for it truly made Basch feel special. _

_As Ashe predicted, he went for the soup first, but he did not seem very eager. He took his time, as though he were carefully relishing the soup. He still had that composed expression, but after the time she spent with him, she realized his expression tonight was quite different. He seemed quite pleased, but still, she wanted to hear it straight from him._

"_Gods!" Key suddenly gasped, and she felt knots on her own stomach. Was it too salty? Did she do something she wasn't supposed to do again? _

"_It's so good!" he continued, and she thanked the gods for sparing her the humiliation. Mighty and Amon soon voiced out their agreement and she was definitely pleased. She was yet to hear Basch's approval and it made her victory incomplete. _

_The meal proceeded with idle chatter, but not once did he comment on her cooking. Was it not enough? Did she not please him? She was starting to find it difficult to continue smiling and laughing with her guests when the apprehension started to rise from the pit of her stomach. The food she cooked suddenly tasted bland to her. _

"_I've had this kind of fowl many times before, but I never thought it could be roasted this way. I suppose that's why it tastes so different," Amon said with his mouth still half full. "How do you come up with these things, Amalia?"_

"_Well," she chuckled slightly, refusing to let her emotions get the better of her, "you know, we wives should always have tricks up our sleeves for you men easily grow tired of our cooking." _

_She was surprised when she suddenly felt Basch's hand atop hers, squeezing it lightly, "I would never tire of your cooking," he murmured, and all she had to do was look up to see his warm eyes upon her. That was all she needed to wash away the anxiety from her heart, and she realized how foolish she was as she squeezed his hand back. _

"_The offer is still open you know. Just say the word and we're out of here," Amon suggested, which drove Key to poke him on the ribs._

"_Say that in another ten minutes. I'm not done eating yet!" he grumbled, as he refocused his attention on his meal. _

"_So what do you think Basch?" Mighty asked the question Ashe had in mind when he finally figured out what was wrong with her. He noted how her expression changed from being vulnerable to being guarded in an instant. _

_The people on the table stopped eating and Basch suddenly felt everyone's attention focused on him. Yet what could he say to measure up to what Ashe had prepared? He was already too overwhelmed to begin with.  
_

"_It certainly is different, but I am not too surprised," he said calmly, only to feel Ashe's hand slipping away from his grip. He held on to it firmly as he rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand, tracing the light burns and cuts she had as though he had the power to heal them by his mere touch. "Anything my wife cooks is special. Actually, no, everything about her is special."_

_She did not know which warmed her heart more, the way he managed to finally address her as his wife, or the kind words he said about her. She felt whole once more, all because of the man clutching her hand. Whether or not it was still part of the game, everything still felt so real, more real than she could ever imagine; and she was glad to have felt this way, even just once in her life._

"_Who would've thought good ol' Basch was the romantic type?" Key laughed as he slapped Amon's arm playfully, "it gives me hope for you, my friend." _

"_Why does it always have to come back to me?" the light-haired man sputtered as he lightly shoved Key. _

"_Because among us three, you're the least likely to get the girl," Mighty piped up and swiftly ran from the table, already anticipating Amon's retaliation, _

"_Say that for yourself you crazy moogle!"_

"_kupo!"_

_The night went on with their laughter, and their friends' crazy antics. Truly, it was a special day, and it was not even because of what she did. She wished for another day with them, another day with him, for now she was sure that no matter what, it would be special. _

* * *

The rain continued to pour outside without any hints of stopping any time soon. The cottage continued to be in a state of near darkness, save for the brief moments when the lightning flashed across the sky. They did not even bother to get a lamp or a candle. Instead, they remained huddled in one corner, surrounded by tall boxes which kept the things they've previously used, as though they were hiding from the world.

They remained silent for what seemed to be minutes, hours, almost frozen in their embrace in the dark chilly corner. It was only when she snuggled nearer that he pulled the single blanket they shared tighter around them, forming a cocoon which bound the two of them even closer together.

Idly, she moved her hands and caressed the side of his face as she laid her head in the nook of his neck, enjoying the warmth and comfort she felt in his arms. He in turn sighed in contentment as he nuzzled the top of her head, wishing never to let go. Just when he thought they both finally fell asleep, he heard her whisper his name despite the wrathful rain that poured outside. He leaned back slightly, resting his head on the wall so he can look at her. She tilted slightly until their eyes met once more and that was all he needed to see for him to have the urge to smile again.

"Hmm?"

"Do you remember that time we had Mighty, Amon and Key over for dinner?" she asked him softly.

"Aye," he replied, "best meal I've had in my life."

She grinned then as she relived that night, "It's silly but, it took all my discipline to restrain myself from fishing for compliments from you."

Basch raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "If I did not praise you enough then, I am more than willing to rectify my mistake now," he teased her as he squeezed her lightly. "Well, you did tell me that you did not want the boys to know that you initially did not know how to cook. Had that not been the case, I would have been more honest."

It was her turn to raise her eyebrows, for his last comment intrigued her, "oh? Then what did you want to say?"

He closed his eyes for a few seconds, as if to compose himself. "I would have said, 'if she knew how to cook this way when I first met her then I would have asked her to marry me then and there,'" he said with such a straight face that Ashe pinched his cheek forcefully.

"You men and your stomachs!" she muttered as she then rubbed his cheek, as if to undo what she had just done. "Of course you couldn't have done that. I could barely hold a skillet when you first met me."

"I know that," he murmured, his eyes still alight with mirth, "imp."

"Oh!" she gasped indignantly as she playfully pinched his cheek once more, only to remember the childishness of the act for that was exactly what she did when she was much younger. "Balthier's right. You were better off without a sense of humor."

"And I thought you said I was a stick-in-the-mud?"

"But that is different!"

"Yes, I yield, your highness," he sighed, letting her have her way. He was still chuckling when he noticed the sudden change in Ashe's mood. He then thought perhaps his jest had gone too far "I … I am sorry," he said solemnly as he kissed her in the forehead.

She shook her head as she replaced her hand in the side of his face, "no, it's not that." she suddenly felt guilty for spoiling the mood. Yet she figured, she must nevertheless tell him how she felt now, "It's just that in the Barheim passage, that was how you addressed me… I wanted to slap you senseless back then. I was so confused and I thought you could never see me as anything more than just your liege."

They both knew that was not true. The way they remained so intimately tucked together was just a proof of that.

"I apologize," he said nonetheless, "I did not know how much it had bothered you."

"That doesn't matter now," she replied and soon they lapsed into silence once again.

Yet Basch continued to think about it unintentionally, for he knew that skirting around the issue would do them no good. Their feelings might have changed, but the fact that she was queen and he was judge magister still stayed the same.

Ashe must have felt it too as the silent air between them became too uncomfortable.

"Perhaps… I could be your … paramour?" he finally blurted out, his serious words sounded like his biggest jest that night in his own ears.

"First a knight, then a judge, and now a paramour?"

He moved his hand soothingly up and down her back when he realized that the topic at hand made her tense up in agitation, despite the lightheartedness of her reply.

"I would still ask for your hand in marriage, if only… "

"If only what?"

"If it had not been such a predicament for you."

A predicament, she felt the sharp pain in her chest when Basch summed up what the choice of living her life with him was, a mere predicament! She could not think of another life that was more dreamy, exhilarating, or satisfying. Yet the sad truth was that it was far from her grasp, and surely, to him it was a predicament as well. Dalmasca needed her. Archadia needed him. They both knew how selfishness nearly destroyed Ivalice once, they both knew they could not act selfishly now.

"If you would like…" he reached down and held her hand tightly as he nudged her to look at him, "We could go away, far away. I could bring you to Ordalia –"

"To elope?" she gasped as she searched his eyes to determine if he truly was serious, "how could we…"

"It seems quite far-fetched, but if that is your wish, I will do it."

She whispered his name as tears welled up in her eyes. It was he who encouraged her whenever she faltered. It was he who taught her the value of selflessness. Yet even in telling her the very selfish ideas she kept on pushing away in her head, it was still he who wanted to take the blame. She knew how painful it was to tell her what he just said, for his suggestion went against his very nature, and even he knew how preposterous the idea was. Yet he would give up even his principles, if she _would only will it. _He told her before; he would bear the shame and that was exactly what he intended to do.

"Basch, don't do this."

"If we decide to do something we might regret… either end is filled with regrets. Know that it was I who chose to-"

"-No," she shook her head as she felt the sharp pain continued to pound her heart, as if crushing it to small pieces. "We cannot, we cannot run away." Her tears fell as she said the words she never wanted to say. He needed her to be strong, she knew; he needed her to do what was right for them both.

He pushed her closer as he let her hide in the nook of his neck. He felt pride instead of dejection as he heard her muffled tears. The pain lingered in his own heart, and he supposed it would stay that way for the rest of his life; yet he did not want to burden her even more. He knew he would cause her nothing but that had she agreed to his plan. He knew she could never be truly content had Dalmasca been the price she had to pay for a life with him.

"I only wished to make you happy, but alas, this is what my loving you entails," he rubbed her back in an effort to comfort her when he could no longer do anything else to ease her pain. "I could give you nothing but empty promises."

"But I have you, I have your love," she managed to say as she lifted her head to face him.

"Yes, all of it," He nodded, as he wiped her tears away, "All of me."

"Then that would be more than enough."

It was not enough to give them a life together. It was not even enough to buy some time aside from stolen moments and clandestine acts. It was not enough to cut the distance between them, or to transcend borders. It was not enough to ease the pain of the past or make the future something to look forward to.

But it was more than enough to fill each empty, lonely instant with a memory, a memory of a feeling, that could help them carry on. It was more than enough to make them feel that they would never be _truly_ alone again. It was more than enough to let them go on living, knowing they both depended on every breath, every heartbeat of the other, to find a reason to move on.

The storm passed and the sun came up and filled the room with light. The tall boxes were no longer enough to hide them in the shadows. A new day began at the coast, and the sounds of activity outside the small cottage were enough to remind them of this. Slowly, painfully, he let go, letting the blanket they shared fall on the floor. Tearfully, reluctantly, she stood up, feeling how cold the usually warm air in the coast was. Silently, she went to the sink to wash away her tears, to wash away the pain from her features, so she could put on her mask of calm. Carefully, he folded the blanket and kept it inside one of the boxes as he caressed each object, each utensil he managed to touch as he did so.

When she was ready, she stood by the door and looked at the cottage one last time, hoping to memorize each detail, visualizing how it looked like when she still lived there. Soon he stood beside her and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She looked up to him and smiled as best as she could, and he thought of how much he would miss that sight, despite it being carved firmly in his heart.

They walked silently on the sand, for what seemed to be the last time as make believe husband and wife, as their game drew to a close. Words could not be said. Words need not be said. They knew the game was over the moment they sat atop their separate chocobos, ready to face their own lives once more.

He looked at her thoughtfully as he kept his hands from shaking from its grip at the chocobo's reins, as he kept himself from losing control. He still remembered how she felt like in his arms and he held on to the memory, knowing that was all he could do at the moment. He looked at his queen, his love, and felt joy despite the pain, for no matter what; he knew that no one can take away whatever they've shared. For once he owned something so precious, something he would never let go of.

"I shall take my leave, your highness."

It took her a while to reply. She had conceded to fate, and she no longer had anger in her heart. Perhaps it was because she now had an entirely different feeling filling her, one that flowed upon the mere thought of him. It overwhelmed her and it took all her strength not to weep again. She had to be strong. She had to endure. Love was supposed to make her feel stronger, and not weaker, she reminded herself.

"Farewell Gabranth."

The desolation in her voice tore his heart. Yet this was how it was, wasn't it? Nothing good ever comes out from prolonging the agony.

"Promise me, as you move away, do not look back," he said gruffly, as he could not contain the pain himself.

She breathed in shakily as she replied, "Not until you kiss me goodbye." One for the road, one last kiss to reassure her that everything they had was real.

He acceded to her request, giving in to his own desire.

It was only when their lips parted that she whispered, "I promise."

They went their separate ways, both depending on their chocobos to bring them apart, far and fast enough to keep them from seeing each other should they not be strong enough to keep their promise. Yet they held on, unwittingly starting the charade once more.

The rules have changed; the roles have shifted.

Even so, the Queen and the Judge Magister must continue to pretend.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

"I take thee as my wife, to have and to hold, to love and to … treasure, for the rest of my-"

"Cherish! It's cherish!" the moogle snapped, visibly irked as his wings flapped briskly behind his back. "For the nth time, you're not a pirate, kupo. You're not even a hunter anymore! So stop thinking about treasures!"

"But Mighty!" the young man frowned as he messed up his perfectly gelled hair, "Aw, now look what you made me go and do!" he moved towards the mirror and tried to fix it, "Hunter or not, she is still my treasure."

"But "cherish" is what is written in the manual, kupo!" Mighty reiterated slowly, hoping to bring down the tension this time, "You said you wanted the vows to be perfect didn't you?" he climbed up the top of the dresser to grab the comb from the shaken man, hoping to straighten out his hair himself as he noticed his unstable hands. "Just calm down, everything will be just fine."

"Just fine, he says," the groom muttered under his breath. He always thought that wedding jitters only affected females, yet the way he felt himself trembling now proved it to be otherwise. "Kastam! My best man isn't even here yet!"

Mighty shook his head exasperatedly, feeling slightly annoyed at his other friend's actions himself. He knew Amon was a busy man, and he was probably busier now more than ever, but still, that didn't mean that he had the right to be late on their friend's wedding day. Yet he knew he must not fuel the agitated groom's anger any further and so he gave him reassuring pats on his arm and smiled. "Don't worry Key, I have the rings here, safe in my pocket. Your wedding will go on even if Amon becomes inexcusably late, kupo."

"Thanks a lot Mighty," the man sighed as he tried to calm his heart. "I don't know what I'll do without you. I think I feel much better now."

"You should! It's your wedding day after all, kupo!"

With this the man smiled, and they proceeded to practice the wedding vows once more – that was until a loud knock was heard from the door.

"Hanta, who is it this time?" Key muttered as he fought the urge to mess up his hair again, "That better be Amon!"

"I'll get it, kupo!" Mighty hurriedly went to the door to see for himself. He wanted to give Amon a piece of his mind, thus he wanted to get to him first, to tell him what he had to endure in his absence. In many instances that whole afternoon, he had to stop himself from wanting to push Key off Bhujerba again just to calm him down and make him forget his wedding jitters. Helping the groom calm down was supposed to be the Best Man's job, and not his! He just wanted to be a humble guest who would snoop around, eat, drink and be merry…

The moogle was surprised to see a soldier instead by the door. He was just about to speak when the man beat him to the task and asked, "Sir Nandhi? Is he there?"

"Kah?"

Key went closer to the door and saw the soldier as well.

"Sir Nandhi, I bring good tidings to you on your wedding day," the soldier spoke cheerfully as he bowed slightly, "I bring gifts from one of your honored guests."

Key looked at Mighty and the moogle just shrugged. They both peeked out the room to see what was behind the soldier and sure enough, they saw baskets of red Galbana Lilies lined up outside the room. Both of them knew how rare and expensive the flowers were. Key's bride even opted not to use the flowers for her bouquet for they knew that it was an impractical show of extravagance. Galbana Lilies were only reserved for the elite and the royalty… why, the last time he saw such an abundance of these flowers was when the Princess of Dalmasca and the Prince of Nabradia got married.

"This is for me?" Key asked, dumbfounded, as he rubbed his eyes in disbelief.

"This and so much more," the soldier continued as he walked slightly, avoiding the precious red flowers as he did so, "I've also been told to escort you to the Ondore Estate. The Marquis has agreed to let your ceremony be held in his personal chapel, and arrangements are being made to transfer the reception and to bring all your other guests there as well."

Mighty noticed how Key paled in an instant. It seemed as though the man did not take the news in quite well.

"Raksas. You have got to be kidding me. You're not a Sainikah… You're a raksas trying to pull my leg!"

Mighty had to push Key back with all his strength to stop him from strangling the soldier. He was also confused himself, and he didn't think it was nice to toy with a man on his wedding day, but the flowers seemed real enough, and surely soldier didn't seem like he was lying…

"Sir!" the soldier gasped as he retreated slightly as he saw the man's rage. "Forgive me, I didn't know that the news would offend you sir. Your bride and your family sure reacted more pleasantly… I did not know you were averse to the idea of…"

"Wait, you told my family, and my bride?" Key gasped as he ran inside his room to peer out the window. Sure enough, he saw several white chocobos with gold trimmings, and a small carriage strapped behind it. His mother was on it… so was his father and his sisters…. They seemed to be so happy … and…there was …

"Ack! Key! Move away kupo!" Mighty ran and grabbed his leg, "don't look! You said it was bad luck for you to see your bride before the wedding!"

"Aw! Now look what you almost made me do!" Key whined as he pointed an accusing finger at the soldier. "I don't know if this is some form of sick joke, but it's really just making me feel worse!"

"Forgive me sir!" the soldier sputtered as he bowed, "I did not know it would upset you. His highness just wanted to please you, to make up for his tardiness…"

"Tardiness?" Mighty let go of Key's leg and scratched his head. "His highness?"

The soldier meekly nodded as he fumbled to get a letter from his pocket. "Here, his highness wanted me to give this to you."

Key grunted as he grabbed the letter from the soldier's shaky hands. He ripped the seal off the envelope carelessly and pulled out the letter from within. He noticed the scribble as Amon's handwriting and knowing that his best man was behind the joke fueled his rage even more.

_Key,_

_I know you want to kill me right now, but important things came up suddenly. I'll be a little late but don't worry. I'm doing everything to make up for it. Hopefully, you won't regret getting me as your best man. So just relax all right, and don't jump around until I'm there. Tell Mighty to stay away from the wine, you know how he is when he gets drunk. And don't worry about Ondore; he's an "ally" of mine now. He even agreed to be your wedding sponsor; I bet your father would like that, huh?_

_Amon_

_P.S. I'm dragging along Amalia and Basch with me, so don't start without us all right? _

It was too much for Key to bear. Marquis Halim Ondore – Amon's ally, his sponsor? Amon must have been drunk when wrote the letter, and he must have done something insane to be able to pull off such a …

"His Royal Highness, Mithras Amon Nabradia," Mighty's voice suddenly pulled Key away from his thoughts.

"What did you say?"

"That's what it says here, in the envelope's seal, kupo!" Mighty jumped up to show the envelope to him, "Mithras Amon Nabradia!"

"Hanta!"

They've been hearing the news on the streets for several days now, and finally it was confirmed the day before. The lost prince of Nabradia came forth to reclaim his throne, and even cleared Nabudis of all its undead and vile creatures. The Nu Mou talked highly of this miracle and has anointed the prince in a secret ceremony. Nabradia was free and Archadia announced their support for the new monarch just that morning. Yet Key was too busy to find out about the details for he still had a wedding to finalize. He wanted things to push through, before the full blown Nabradian festivities spread and affect even the peaceful Skycity of Bhujerba.

"Mighty, this probably is just some sick dream isn't it? I'm just feeling the side effects of my fall… I think there are still loose screws in my head…" Key mumbled as he wiped away the cold sweat from his forehead.

"Kupo…" Mighty mumbled as well as he shook his head continuously, "I didn't fall from Bhujerba, but if that's the case then I might have loose screws in my head as well!"

"That… that Amon … can't possibly be… a prince!" Key laughed then, touching his stomach as he did so, "that sly vagabond!"

"I beg your pardon!" the soldier gasped, suddenly reminding Key and Mighty that he was still present, "Please do not insult my lord in such manner. Prince Amon had been most generous to you, his friends!"

"Did you hear that? He said _Prince Amon_!" Mighty laughed as well and rolled on the floor, messing up his perfectly starched clothes, "Oh gods, next thing we know, they'd reveal that Amalia and Basch are royals as well!"

The soldier shook his head, not quite believing how the two acted before his eyes. He wondered what he should do, after all, he didn't want to face the wrath of his lord, and he did not want to offend his lord's friends either.

"Hanta!" Key struggled to remain upright but nonetheless fell on the floor with Mighty, "we truly are lucky to have such good friends then!"

* * *

"Because that's what good friends do!" Penelo told Vaan, with a slightly annoyed tone in her voice, when she started to get tired of arguing with him, "We are all friends aren't we? So that's why we should help out!"

"At this rate, we're already meddling, Pen," the young man countered, only to earn a light shove from his best friend, "H-hey, don't do that. We might crash or something." He gripped the controls of the airship tightly and pretended to zone out and focus back on the path ahead.

"Don't tell me you're still mad at Basch for almost hitting you with his sword back then," she muttered as she crossed her arms, shifting her gaze to the navigation panel herself.

"No, of course not -"

"Then let's go fetch him already!" She exclaimed once again, and at that point, Vaan knew he was defeated. He hated it when Penelo was being too bossy, but he supposed he didn't want her any other way.

"Okay, okay, all right!" he mumbled as he pressed several controls on the panel to bring down their altitude a little, "But all we have to do is get him and give him Larsa's letter, right?"

"Then we have to bring him to Bhujerba," she added hastily as she looked at the viewfinder excitedly, searching for any signs of the knight on the ground below.

"Aw man! Do we really have to?"

"It's part of the plan, silly! Weren't you listening earlier?"

He shrugged, still a bit annoyed at how excited she seemed to be. Penelo already told him long ago that there was s_omething going on _between Ashe and Basch, but he never really believed it. Yet now that he knew that it was true, and Basch seemed to acknowledge it as well, Vaan realized that it made the knight a tad bit … crabby. He wasn't the only one who noticed it, yet Penelo merely dismissed it as a symptom of _love sickness_, and Larsa … well… nothing really seemed to faze Larsa now – but still, he was a bit wary of dealing with the man while he was still … not quite himself.

"I was listening, okay. Emperor Solidor appointed Judge Magister Gabranth as the Ambassador of Goodwill in the Nabradia-Dalmasca Region, to ensure Archadia's political hold, despite the recent liberation of Dalmasca and the e… emasculation of Nabradia…"

"It's emancipation Vaan!" Penelo corrected him, as she tried hard not to laugh, "You just memorized what was said in the letter."

"Same thing!" he mumbled, "Larsa said the guys from the Foreign Affairs ministry wanted Gabranth to continue spying on Dalmasca and Nabradia so they wouldn't rebel or do something without them knowing it, even though they lost their hold on them somewhat."

She nodded, proud that he understood what was said after all. "That is sneaky of them. Even if Gabranth is the head of the intelligence gathering bureau, he isn't really on their side since we know that he's actually Basch… and Larsa doesn't want to start another war, so the truth is that the real joke's on the Archadian government."

He frowned for a while, and she thought he was intent on looking for Basch himself, until his expression brightened up and he exclaimed, "OH! I get it!"

"You're hopeless!" Penelo gasped as she pushed him slightly once more, "You mean to say that you thought Larsa really wanted Basch to spy on Dalmasca all this time?"

"H-hey!" Vaan playfully swatted her hands away, "How should I know? I'm a sky pirate, not a politician!"

Penelo shook her head and just focused on the viewfinder once more. "Oh, Basch… Basch… where is he? We should really get him before he finds out everything."

"What's the fuss? Even without us, he'd probably go to Bhujerba and follow orders anyway. He's just that kind of guy."

"But then he'd be able to mull on it, and things would be arranged before they even know everything!" she sighed, "Who knows, he might even think too much about it and end up not going with the plan at all. You know how lowly he thinks of himself. He might think he doesn't deserve it – which is far from the truth, for crying out loud. So we have to force him to act, before he backs out from it himself."

"He'll follow whatever Larsa _orders _him to do." That's why the emperor phrased it as an order to begin with, Vaan added silently to himself.

"Not when it concerns Ashe," she countered, "besides, going to her just because of a mere order would be totally unromantic."

"Whatever," Vaan muttered, thinking Basch couldn't be romantic, even if his life depended on it, in the first place. "Stop getting all starry-eyed, for you might get disappointed! Just focus on the viewfinder if you want to find Basch so badly."

"All right, all right," she replied, a bit amused at how the topic of romance seemed to annoy Vaan once more. Nevertheless she had dreamy images in her head – one that involved a knight in shining armor and a beautiful queen - and she enjoyed it for the moment. "It'll be perfect, Vaan, you'll see!"

* * *

Nothing was perfect, but life with him seemed to be the nearest thing to it. Yet now that she sat quietly among her ministers and other dignitaries as they discussed her future, she figured that it was a life that was too far away from her grasp.

At that point, her broken heart and broken dreams no longer mattered. Amon's push was merely a reprieve after all. Now she had to move on, at a much faster pace than what she had wanted. The world around her was quickly changing, and she had to keep up, even if she must stumble and fall.

She continued to don her calm facade, even after the topic of marriage came up for discussion. While the thought of having yet another political marriage never escaped her mind, the swiftness and the blatant eagerness of her people to have her married off once more clearly bothered her. It also did not help that marriage had been a topic that had been lingering – and she had been pushing off her mind as she journeyed back to Rabanastre merely hours ago.

"Marriage is not something to be taken lightly, even if it had been the surest way to form an alliance in the past," a Nu Mou spoke, and she tried hard not to hold on to his words for hope. Everyone seemed to be convinced that the political marriage was for the best interest of Dalmasca and Nabradia, even before she arrived to join the discussion. Thus it would seem that her fate had been settled long before she could even argue for her own sake.

"This is not simply for an alliance – this is for peace. Surely you have experienced the devastation of war, one way or another. Surely you all agree that we must do everything we can to prevent this from happening once more - "

"But must we allow our queen to make such a sacrifice?" her internal minister spoke vehemently, "We all know what she has been through, and what she had accomplished was no easy feat."

_A sacrifice_. Someone actually recognized her plight. Yet it did not matter. She was still queen and her people still came first. Whether or not it was a sacrifice was irrelevant. To her, such act was still a duty she owed to the people of Dalmasca.

The men continued to argue, as they conveniently ignored her presence in the room. She felt sicker as the minutes passed. Deep inside she wept, as she recalled how she now had an inkling as to how a true marriage was supposed to feel like. Her experience was nothing more than a fantasy now, for the kind of marriage that women of her stature were subjected to was of a different kind altogether.

Idly, she eyed the new monarch as he sat at the far end of the table. He seemed to be following the discussion, and somehow she envied his ability to show attentiveness. He had been in the conference long before she had arrived and surely they've discussed the topic of marriage with him earlier. At that point, she realized that she did not even know how he truly felt about her, though apparently he already knew of how she truly felt about _another man_. Would he stand up to defend her, she wondered, for he after all was the man and had more power to make a choice on the matter. Yet after seeing the vehemence, passion and determination of those around her, she realized that it was selfish of her to think that way. Clearly, he saw this as well, and he would be too callous if he ended up acting the way she wanted him too.

"Marriage does not entirely embody a sacrifice," Amon spoke finally, causing the other ministers to hold their tongues to let the new monarch speak, "while it is an institution founded on love, this love does not have to be limited to the bride and groom alone. From what I've been told, political marriages are founded on the leaders' love for their people as well." He then looked at her intently and held her gaze. Could the ministers have been successful in persuading him? Did he now think like they did? It was odd to hear those words from him, she thought, when earlier he had been talking about marriage, love, in an entirely different light. "Queen Ashelia, have you finally reached a decision? Have you discerned what's best for your people?"

"_Dalmasca be dammed. Even for a while, wouldn't you want to live that way? Wouldn't you want to be in love again?"_

She still remembered her reply to him, but now she did not know if she could still stay true to those words. Dalmasca was not the only thing she had now, but still she could not abandon her people in exchange for her own happiness. She already acknowledged that hard truth with the man she loved beside her, and clearly he had accepted it as well. Yet surely, the gods would not think her selfish for still feeling the pain, would they? Surely she still had the right to feel the pain in her heart, even though she was being pushed not to feel anything else.

She looked at the hopeful eyes around her. Her subjects, her people had endured the pain of war as well. If this was what she had to do to somehow ease their pain; if this was what she had to do as their queen, then, just as what Basch had taught her to do, just as what Basch had already done for her and her people, she supposed she had no other choice but to comply.

"Truly, I would only desire what's best for my people. In the interest of peace, I would have … no objections to any … arrangements you might deem necessary…" she could not speak further, for fear of ending up in tears before her ministers. Yet most of them seemed to understand; even the old man beside her patted her hand comfortingly.

Tentatively, she looked at Amon, feeling slightly betrayed for what had occurred. He unlocked her buried memories, and set her free, only to hasten her sentence, only to help in trapping her in an unwanted marriage. He had the gall to look disappointed, devastated himself, as he shook his head and avoided her gaze. Yet she realized that what just occurred was all her own doing all along– for he merely asked her for her decision, and it was still a decision she made on her own. Perhaps he wanted her to answer differently, to tell everyone that she chose to live her life freely, serving Dalmasca without need of sacrificing herself. Perhaps he waited for her to act as his parents had – to go against conventions and finally stand up for what she truly wanted, needed, once and for all.

But clearly, it was something she simply cannot do.

Amon had just been hailed as prince, and was still wet behind the ears. Despite his wisdom and loyalty, he still had much to learn. She thought perhaps he still did not fully understand the responsibility they now both held in their hands. Perhaps he did not fully understand how their actions can affect more lives than they can ever imagine.

Perhaps Amon did not want this marriage as well, Ashe thought, as she finally realized that this did not only involve her and Basch, but involved him as well. He admitted to her that he did not desire this lifestyle, and he showed no signs of conceding to be tied to her either.

"Amon... I…"

He shook his head as he held up his hand to stop her. He smiled reassuringly, and said, "I am sure that I speak for everyone when I tell you that we are awed by your love for your people, and I fully understand how difficult this must be for you…"

Wasn't it difficult for him as well? He might have wanted to avoid this marriage just as much as she did, but somehow it felt awkward for her to hear him acknowledge how unwanted the impending marriage was on her part. She knew that it was more than offensive, and surely it hurt his pride, even if he had not wanted the marriage himself. Though getting forced to do something was already a harsh thing to begin with, recognizing your own undesirability was an even harder thing.

"It is not entirely a sacrifice as you've said, your highness," Ashe hastily added as she looked at the Nabradian ministers as well, "Surely this marriage would not be entirely unpleasant-"

"Please, do not give more than what you already have," he said softly, but the silence in the room still enabled her to hear it, "No one is asking you to love _anyone_ other than those _you already do_. Like I said, marriage is not always founded on the love between the groom and bride alone."

"Then if I could continue to choose who to love in my heart, I have no more qualms in proceeding with this marriage willingly."

Love was something never discussed in all her political meetings. After all, state affairs never really had anything to do with such earthly feelings as love. Yet she knew it was a touchy topic, judging from how the men's frowns remained, and turned grimmer as the minutes passed. She suddenly wondered how her first marriage had been discussed. It was odd; she always thought it was not as grim as the proceedings before her now. Then again, her first marriage had been quite pleasant. Perhaps marriage with Amon would not be as bad.

"Your noble sacrifice would not be for naught. I swear to devote myself to your people, and I would endeavor to be as good a monarch as you, Queen Ashelia." The prince stood up from his seat and bowed before her. His ministers followed suit and bowed as well. Soon, her own ministers stood up until all the men in the room bowed before her.

"We would never forget this, my queen. Your devotion would surely be revered by the generations to come," the elder from Nebran fisher folk spoke as he seemed to keep his voice from breaking as his head remained bowed before her.

"We would always keep Dalmasca safe, and our ranks would remain loyal to you till our death!" one of the surviving knights of the Dalmascan Order added.

"May the Gods… may the Gods bless you my Queen," the Nu Mou spoke once more, as the other men all replied, "Faram"

She was overwhelmed to say the least, for she never expected her people to realize the difficulty of her choice. She never expected her people to know that pledging her life to someone else was just as much as a predicament as choosing to live with the man she truly loved. It eased her pain a little, though she figured that the pain would always linger in her heart.

"Very well then, now that we have clearly reached a consensus, I shall proceed _with the arrangements with the Emperor Solidor immediately_," Halim Ondore finally spoke, almost nonchalantly, just when Ashe nearly forgot he was also present in the room in the first place.

"But Marquis…" She touched her chest, albeit unconsciously, to ease the painful throbbing of her heart. It seemed most cruel to inform Larsa … to inform Basch… of the arrangements they just agreed upon, just when their parting was still too fresh in their minds…"Marquis, must we really proceed with haste?"

Ondore nodded slowly, donning the poker face his niece knew too well. Perhaps he was keeping his emotions in check for her own sake? "There is no point in prolonging the agony, is there?"

She nodded, resigned to her fate as she bit her lip to stop her tears from falling, to stop herself from showing any form of weakness just when she finally agreed to abandon her chance at happiness, at love completely. Basch would surely understand, she thought. Basch would know that they tried.

"If you would excuse me," Ashe spoke shakily, as she felt as though she could not hold back the tears any longer. She had shown enough strength for that day, she thought, surely they would forgive her for this small lapse…

It was over… all over…

"Wait!" a Nabradian minister gasped, as he stood before her in an effort to stop her on her tracks. "Please forgive me for my insolence but… My queen!" he left her briefly only to kneel in front of Amon, "My lord! Would you not reconsider? Surely, you might regret this later on! Can't you see what a fitting union it would be _if the two of you married instead_?"

Ashe stopped, thinking her own despair led her to hear things differently. She already agreed to marry… Amon, did she not?

"We have discussed this earlier,_ even before the Queen arrived_, did we not, Minister? _A union between the House of Nabradia and the House of Dalmasca always ended bitterly_! It seemed to anger the gods!" Amon exclaimed exasperatedly, "Please do not complicate things once more. She made up her mind. She had already agreed to _marry the Judge Magister for the good of her people_!"

She had agreed to marry… the Judge Magister? Her expression broke in an instant as she felt the tears welling up in her eyes. Her mind was playing a joke on her on the most depressing point in her life. Perhaps she was going insane…

"Can't you see how pained she looks now? You insult her with your words! She already agreed explicitly to what had been planned earlier." The minister stopped briefly and held her shoulders as if to steady her. He then turned towards the Nabradian Minister and grumbled, "She's now sacrificing her life and happiness to ensure peace between Dalmasca and Archadia."

Peace between Dalmasca and Archadia? All the while she thought of… She was getting more and more confused, and her frustration made it harder for her to keep her tears from falling.

"Marrying the enemy, marrying a man of a lower stature – a man she clearly did not deserve! Things cannot get any worse than that!" Another minister, this time from the Nabradian camp spoke, as he hit the table forcefully. "Those Archadians are just too sneaky – sending the Judge Magister in exchange for Nabradia's freedom and continuous aid to Dalmasca. They forced us to resort to trickery as well. Surely this is the noblest sacrifice a queen could ever make!"

Wait. Trickery? Noble Sacrifice?

She looked up and gazed at Amon questioningly, only to see him mimic his ministers actions as he wore a devastated expression.

"The queen and I have discussed this matter thoroughly in my _recent visit to Dalmasca, _for the only thing that prevented me from reclaiming the throne was the condition stipulated by Archadians. Clearly it was a trick that would affect not only Nabradia but Dalmasca as well. Yet the Queen graciously reassured me of our firm alliance." He made a dramatic pause then as he looked at the ministers with despondent eyes. "And she… and she offered to pay the price. She offered to have a _political marriage_ with the Archadian delegate, in order to ensure our liberty… in exchange of hers!" He stood up from his seat and went beside her then, placing his firm hand on her shoulder. "As his wife, in the most intimate relationship possible, she would be able to keep the Archadian camp in check. In the guise of a political marriage, we could fool them into thinking that they have the upper hand, when we in fact do."

"Yes! Our Queen brought down their forces not too long ago! Having the Judge Magister wrapped around her little finger would surely be a cinch," one of the younger minister piped up, earning grunts of approval from the other men. "Long live the Queen!"

"Long live the Queen!"

After their loud cheering, her uncle finally decided to urge the ministers to leave to give her privacy and space to _come into terms with her_ _tragic fate_. They all complied, after they each gave her their salutations and encouragements. She barely saw or heard what they said, for she concentrated on keeping herself from shedding more tears than she already had.

She couldn't believe it. Despite her tears, she suddenly wanted to laugh. Yet she was still overwhelmed to say the least, and faintly she wondered if she was merely dreaming. Amon knelt before her and held her hand, suddenly looking uncertain when just moments ago he was intent in acting his part. Ondore patted the back of the last delegate and quickly locked the doors. She then went beside her and placed his hand on her shoulder as well.

"I… I do not know what…" she started, only to fully break into tears. She sobbed uncontrollably, faintly feeling Amon's arm around her shoulder as he gave her a bear hug.

"Hanta, he should be the one comforting you, darn it," he muttered as he awkwardly patted her back. "There, there. You've been through a lot haven't you?"

"Frankly Amon, I was surprised that you actually pulled off _this charade_," Ondore chuckled as he searched for his kerchief to give it to Ashe. "And I'm surprised you didn't realize what was happening 'till the last moment, Ashe."

"I… still don't know…" she managed to say the words in between sobs. She felt angry at herself for being reduced to a crying twit after all the stress that she just experienced. It had been most difficult for her to control her whirlwind of emotions and with questions and unresolved feelings in her heart, she felt as though the ordeal was still far from over. "Could you please explain to me what happened again?"

Ondore and Amon looked at each other and shrugged, both having smug expressions on their faces.

"See, you and I talked remember, before _you went to the Phon Coast to come into terms with your fate,"_ Amon started as he faced her once more. He then continued to explain what he, Ondore and Larsa had planned, days before that talk actually happened. The newly formed senate was led to believe that making the head of the 9th bureau, Larsa's most loyal Judge Magister, an "Ambassador of Goodwill" would be for Archadia's best interest. It was Amon's job on the other hand to make the Dalmascan and Nabradian ministers to believe that having a political marriage would be the best way to counteract it. It was not a very difficult thing to do, for while her ministers respected her, they still were more inclined to think that Ashe needed to marry again – and it was just a matter of marrying for the _right purpose _that would be _most advantageous to Dalmasca. _

"But how… I mean… I cannot leave Dalmasca, and Basch needs to be by Larsa's side…"

"We thought about that too," Amon replied as he looked at Ondore for help.

"There would be times when Basch would have to stay at Dalmasca, as part of his duties. But otherwise, during times when he has to be in Archades, you would have to accompany him, for it is your duty as _his wife_," the marquis said calmly, trying to mask his pleasure in telling Ashe about the pleasant news, "During these times, Amon here, with the help of your ministers would be overseeing things in Dalmasca. He is after all a direct descendant from your line as well. Thus, the people would surely recognize his right to do this."

"Yeah," Amon stood up and rubbed his nose slightly, "That makes us family I suppose. We don't even need to get married right?"

"Amon!" she stood up, and finally smiled, "Uncle!" she held the two men's hands in each of hers as she felt the joy wash over her completely. "I do not know what I've done to deserve this. I still… I still could not believe it. Frankly, I do not even know if this would all work…"

"It will, Ashe. Don't worry about it. Everything would be just fine!" the Nabradian Prince smiled as he shook her hand.

"Amon," she looked at him and no longer saw Rasler. Instead, she saw a kind man, a good friend. He was probably wiser than he led her to believe, though he was just as cunning. She knew now that he was nothing like the man she first loved, but oddly enough, it made her see him even more fondly. She barely knew this man, but somehow she looked forward to knowing him even more. "Amon, this would not be possible without you. I… do not know what else to say but… Thank you."

"Like I said, don't worry about it," he chuckled, touching the back of his head as he awkwardly looked away. "I'm just letting things go to where they belong, I guess." He added as he blushed slightly. Ashe tilted her head in confusion, for she did not know what he meant by those words. He looked at her with an expression she can't quite figure out, only to look away as he said, "Oh by the way, it's Key's wedding today. You have to get fixed!" Amon then placed his hands on Ashe's shoulder and nudged her slightly. "You have to look your best before Basch arrives!"

"Basch?" her heart soared when what he just said just registered in her mind. "He's coming here?"

"I believe that young sky pirate and his partner are to bring him here, as per Emperor Solidor's request," Ondore said, as he smiled for seeing his niece so glad and so in love, "He is invited to the wedding too, is he not?"

* * *

He wished to move faster, but his heavy armor prevented him from doing so. The clanking sound his armor made was most unpleasant, and it became louder as he picked up his pace. _Perhaps I really do run like a cactuar_, he thought silently to himself, as he chuckled, despite the nervousness and anxiety he felt on his heart. He moved forward, nonetheless, successfully ignoring the buzzing noise around him. As if the clanking of his armor was not enough, Penelo continued to chatter incessantly behind him. She was telling him something about _flowery words_ and _meaningful gestures_, as though he needed it, as though he actually was capable of using it.

Yet that was the least of his worries, and he knew it was not something he needed to think about now. He just wanted to reach her, to hold her, to never let go of her again. Somehow, they've been given another chance to be together, as though the stardust delivered their message to the gods, as though fate's wheel finally decided to let them have this chance. It was too good to be true, which was why he continued to feel uncertain, and yet, hope has been rekindled in his heart. He suddenly felt reborn, alive, and surely this miracle was something he could not simply ignore.

Yet still, he had doubts and fears, for he wouldn't be himself if he had none. He did not know if this chance would last; and he was uncertain if things would work out as the people around him had planned it to. He did not know if hope had been rekindled in her heart as well, or if she would accept this miracle. He would never be fully certain until he finally reached her.

"Ashe!" he felt his heart skip several beats as Vaan shouted her name. "She's over there!" the boy added as he pulled him to a narrow corridor.

Penelo squealed as she suddenly held Vaan back, leaving Basch in the middle of the marble path as he gazed at the woman he loved most standing before him. She looked astonished to see him as she stood there, frozen as the setting sunlight that peeked through the stone pillars caressed her features. The sudden eagerness left his veins and he was left with cold feet. He just stared at her, mesmerized, not quite believing that she was the same woman he held on his arms not too long ago. At that moment, he saw her, perhaps for the first time, in a completely different light. She was his queen, his charge, his comrade, his friend, and his love. Now, he could say, his vision of her was finally complete – for as he looked at her, he saw her as no other than his better half. She was as much a part of him as he was a part of himself. He was no longer simply just Basch, or Gabranth. It was because of her that he was finally able become _himself_ in his whole entirety.

He was now sure of it. They belonged together. With this, he can no longer pretend to be anyone else.

"What are you waiting for Basch?!" Penelo hissed from behind, only to have her mouth covered by her best friend.

As if cured from his stupor, he removed his helm, unmasking himself, to finally let her see him fully as well. She smiled almost instantly, her eyes shining with unshed tears as she reached up to touch his face.

"You… It is you. I thought I already saw that man in my dreams. I already knew that he was you," she whispered as she let go briefly to wipe her eyes to let her see him more clearly, "but I never imagined that I'd see him, truly see _him_, only now."

He placed his hand on top of hers as it remained firmly in his cheek, glad to realize that she felt what he did as well. His heart throbbed, almost painfully, but not from despair. Sadness seemed to be a thing of his past now, and he was more than ready to take his first step, so he can live away from the darkness once more.

"I have to do this right," he mumbled under his breath, saying his thoughts out loud unconsciously, as he glanced to his side. Perhaps Penelo's nagging stuck to his mind after all, despite his efforts to push it away.

Ashe nudged him slightly, urging him to look at her once more. She frowned, not quite sure of what went on his head. She felt everything was right already as it was. She wondered what he was talking about now.

"I do not want you to think that we are only doing this because it was something the circumstances allowed or because of something that some people led other people to believe," he paused as he shook his head, seeming to have thought that he uttered the wrong words. Just when _the more difficult things _have worked itself out, he was determined not to let his ineloquence get in the way of asking her hand in marriage properly.

"I cannot… I cannot build you a castle," he started once more, as he looked at her tentatively, his silver eyes shining with love, "and I still do not think I could play the part of a king. Even so… I haven't forgotten our promise to build one, together." He got hold of both of her hands and held it firmly in his as he pulled her even closer. "Yet, if you would still have me, we could start building a home instead - where I could be a husband, or a father, or what have you-"

She felt tears in her eyes again, and she leapt up to kiss him before his words made her cry even more. He stiffened at first, surprised at what she did, but soon he wrapped her in a tight embrace as they both got lost in the moment.

"You talk too much," she whispered to him breathlessly when she briefly lifted her face to look at him adoringly, "You could have just told me that you loved me."

"That I do," he chuckled, as he lifted her in his arms playfully, glad to see that everything worked out well in the end. "I love you, Ashe"

"I love you too, Basch"

The couple kissed once more, completely oblivious to the growing number of audiences behind them.

"See, it was perfect!" Penelo sobbed as she hit Vaan on his arm, harder than she had wanted to. She felt so proud of Basch, though she figured he couldn't have done it without her pep talk.

"H-hey!" the boy mumbled as he rubbed his arm. Never in his life did he think that he would witness such a moment, but then he figured that the world truly was full of possibilities.

Perhaps love helped in beating the odds after all.

He shivered when he realized he just thought of something worthy enough to be in one of Penelo's mushy books, and he desperately tried to think of something else.

"Hey, what do you know! It's Amalia and Basch!"

Vaan nearly jumped when he heard the small voice from behind him and was surprised to find that it belonged to a moogle. He was soon followed by a confused looking man … a man that looked familiar…

"I know you!" the man exclaimed when he was finally close enough to see him. "You're that boy who asked about the key to the mines!"

"You're the fallen man from Bhujerba?" Vaan asked as he scratched his head for the unusual turn of events. "What are you doing here?"

"Frankly, I'm not quite sure," Key replied as he looked around awkwardly, "Why? Do you know why _you're_ here?"

"Keep it down will you?" Penelo grumbled, her voice still thick with tears, "Can't you see we have something going on here!"

"Kupo… they sure are at it," Mighty whistled as he watched the couple kissing several meters away, not looking like they knew they were even there. "For a married couple, they sure look like they've only kissed for the first time."

"They're not married," Vaan said casually, though he made an effort to keep his voice down, "At least not yet."

"What do you mean they're not married?" Key countered as he looked to see the two kiss as well, "Those two have been married for some time now!"

Vaan shook his head as he wondered what the man was talking about. "We're good friends of theirs, okay? And we have it on good authority that they haven't tied the knot yet."

"Well, I'll have you know that we're good friends as well!" Key said as he smoothened out the invisible creases in his perfectly starched suit. He then figured that he didn't actually see the two get married and so the young man's words were still possibly true. "Well, even if they're not yet married…. They can have a double wedding with me and my gal. It's better late than never!" he added, conceding to the idea. Yet he stopped and shook his head when he remembered his current situation. "At least… I think I'm still getting married today… unless some joker has another prank up his sleeve."

"A double wedding?" Another man suddenly spoke up from behind them, surprising both Vaan and Key this time. "That seems like a good plan."

"Amon!" Key jumped and strangled Amon with one of his arms as he pushed his other hand to give him a noogie. "Where have you been you…"

Amon wrestled his friend playfully, "Hey! Let go! That's no way to treat your best man!"

"Amon!" Mighty jumped up and tried to join the rumble. "You're late!"

"Seriously, you guys!" Penelo almost looked like she were growling and Vaan was torn between laughing and running away. He finally chose the latter when she moved to unleash her fury on the rambunctious men. "I won't let anyone spoil Ashe and Basch's special moment!"

"Ashe and Basch? No! That's Amalia over there, kupo," Mighty quickly bit out as he evaded Penelo's attack.

"Actually, it's Ashe and Gabranth" Amon mumbled as he grabbed Vaan by the collar to keep him from escaping. "Get her to calm down will you?"

"H-hey!"

"Wait, as in Ashelia the Queen and Gabranth the Judge Magister? No, no. That's Amalia and Basch there!" Key managed to say as he finally saw the couple approach them, as they seemed to notice the ruckus that they started. "Amalia! Basch! Help us!"

They both looked at each other and smiled, slightly amused at the sight before them.

"Ashe, Basch! I'm so sorry!" Penelo stammered. The blush in her cheeks suddenly rivaled the redness of the Galbana Lillies. "But they were just being so… I wanted to…"

"Thank you Penelo," Basch said calmly, with a small smile still in his face, "It's nice to see you all again."

"Wait wait!" Mighty said confusedly, when he finally realized how different they all looked. Basch's armor really made him look like a Judge Magister, and Ashe's gown truly made her look like a Queen … and yet they just didn't seem any different from those two people he met for the first time, not too long ago. "Who are you guys really, kupo?"

Basch, Ashe and Amon all looked awkwardly at each other with tentative smiles on their faces.

"Yeah, I can't exactly invite people who I don't know in my own wedding," Key muttered as he straightened out his suit once more, "Hanta, I am still getting married, right Amon?"

Amon nodded as he grinned at his friends. "I think we still have enough time for clearing up everything. Maybe we should start from the very beginning."

"Aye, perhaps we should," Basch added as he held Ashe's hand affectionately, "But I know not where to start."

Ashe squeezed his hand and nodded as she decided to take the lead.

"It all started when we played a little game…"

The End

* * *

Author's Notes: Whoa. This is the longest chapter ever, but I suppose it's okay since it's already the end right? I'm glad that it's finally finished; and I hope it didn't disappoint (too much.) I figured I should finish this now before I go get killed in school again, hehe. Now with this over, I can finally concentrate on reading fics again! Whew!

Anyway, I couldn't have done this without you. YOU. Yes, you. So here's the roll call. I would like to thank:

fitzshake, Vardonir, Captain Lynza, RogueGoddess007, :), Gwinhwyfar, hetarin, Pinku, Sita 900, Basch, Gagsy, Millenium Ring, Luthien Amarie, AikoShinobi, Skywalker, that belle, Element-of-Treachery, just someone, Xade, Li'l puppy lover, Zaz9-zaa0, Earisu, Valentine's Ninja, Landis icelilly, Edward-Elrics-Girl, Baschashe, Silvara, execrableangel, sorasheart281, Carie Valentine, Phaedre, Elva, Tacks, Eowy, Tersa, Lady of Balfonheim, Daemon Hunter, Duskshard, Eric Davis, Quistis04, Butterfly86, Kissychan1101, Vampireknight172, and Part of Youth

I don't know how many of you reached the end, but I just want you to know that you've been a part of the journey and that I really appreciate your comments, suggestions and criticisms. You all helped me grow and inspired me to reach the finish line.

So with that, I give you my final trivia. *ehem* Did you know that "Balthier courts Ashe" is an anagram of "Basch lathers ire out."

…

Okay, that didn't make sense. Wait wait. I'll try again, this after all is the last trivia portion!

Basch x Ashe forms the FF12's FF-KnightxPrincess archetype. This pattern may be found in the previous FFs as follows:

1. FFIII – Ingus x Sarah (most successful pairing, I believe)

2. FFVI – Draco x Maria

3. FFIX – Steiner and Garnet (uhh… not exactly a pairing but…)

Of course the other FFs didn't exactly have a "knight" or a "princess" but still had elements of the knightxprincess pairing. But the obvious cases came in multiples of 3… ff3,ff6,ff9,and ff12? So perhaps the next knightxprincess thing would be in ff15? Hmmmmm… we'll just have to wait and see, I guess! Well that's all folks! I'll see you when I see you!


End file.
